What the Wizarding World is Like
by sardonicferret
Summary: Draco's life has taken an interesting turn, which creates even more turns in which don't make things any easier. However, there could be one person that's there to help him...
1. Default Chapter

When Draco received the news of his father's escape from Azkaban prison, he was positively thrilled. There were no other words for it; he felt such an overwhelming surge of happiness. Nothing had been the same since Potter had put his father away last year.

His mother had fallen into a deep, almost maddening depression. It wasn't so much as the muffled crying at night that bothered him, than it was her absolute personality change. Whenever Draco drew near to speaking about his father, she scolded him for disrespecting his honor. A fair few times she had waved him off, saying that she needed to hurry and get arranged to go to a dinner party. She was often gone because of those attendances, so Draco took advantage of the time he had alone. Not even house elves occupied the house anymore. He spent nights in the library, reading up on curses, hexes, and spells that might aid him later. He made sure he knew everything about Potions and the Dark Arts, and often assigned himself homework on the days he didn't do anything remotely important during the summer. Work had become time consuming; leisure time had disappeared along with his father. No one was here to spoil him like he always used to be.

Draco checked the Daily Prophet every day, in search of news about Azkaban. Most importantly, it was to catch some news of his father. It became a routine during breakfast, where he sat alone, eating a bowl of usually cold porridge. And even though the routine had gotten tiring, and there was never any good news, Draco still kept at it. Somehow he knew that something would end up happening.

It happened the week before school started. It was to be Draco's seventh year at Hogwarts, and he was looking whole-heartedly forward to leaving the awful place. He'd gone down to breakfast, just like any other day, distractedly mixed together a bowl of his meager breakfast, and sat down at the table with the day's Daily Prophet.

One of his thin, pale fingers ran across the lines of the first few paragraphs. At each word beginning with a capital 'L,' his eyes paused and his breathing caught in his throat, the same as every other day. But today, he stopped longer than normal, his mind trying to comprehend if what he was seeing was actually there.

_Lucius... _

_Lucius Malfoy... _

_... He is among several of the Death Eaters that escaped from Azkaban early this morning... is still being searched for..._

It was on the front page; the top news of the wizarding world. Pictures of the seven Death Eaters, including his father, were placed in a small box at the corner of the page. Draco, having been halfway through with chewing a spoonful of porridge, nearly choked.

That's when he jumped up from the table, not even bothering with the rest of his food. He was deciding on what to do. His breathing seemed to have quickened this time, as if it were a replacement for bursting out with suppressed laughter. This was wonderful. He had to let his mother know! She was probably at another one of those parties, even at such an early time.

With the newspaper still clutched in his hand, he ran up the staircase and into his room to retrieve a piece of parchment and quill. His hands were shaking as he searched around for those things; his gaze was determined. After a minute or more of rushed fumbling, he finally laid out a sheet of new parchment on the surface of his desk. The newspaper was set beside it.

Suddenly, something swept past him, earning him a startled jump. His head whipped around to look for the source, and he saw a large black owl with silver talons perched on his dresser. A small, beaten piece of parchment was attached to its leg. Draco watched it for a few more moments before he slowly made his way toward it. It gave an impatient ruffling of its feathers.

"Hello there..." Draco whispered tentatively. He reached an arm over to untie the note from the dangerous looking leg. It didn't try to stop him. Once the note was pulled away from it, the owl spread out its wings and soared back out through the window. Draco had quickly moved to the side to let it leave, and then looked curiously down at the parchment. For that moment he forgot all about the note to his mother.

He opened it to reveal thick, scrawny lettering.

**Draco, **

**Leaky Cauldron. Room 14. Don't bring your mother. **

**L.**

The minute he had finished reading, he quickly shoved the note into his pants pocket and rushed over to his wardrobe to grab his cloak and scarf.

He didn't need to pause to think of whom the note was from, and he knew that if he didn't leave now, he wouldn't get there until evening. No one was here to take him all the way down to muggle London, so he'd have to fly there.

Once he was ready and standing out in the back garden, he stood there for a few more minutes, looking up at the sky. As strange as this was, he had to think. This all seemed to be happening awfully fast. Just a half hour ago, it seemed, he'd been eating breakfast like all the days before. Now he was standing with his broom in hand, ready to fly off and meet his father, who'd been locked away for an entire year. And Draco had no regrets or worries; he was actually quite ecstatic.

Grinning, Draco pushed up from the ground and zoomed off into the air.


	2. Meeting Family

A quarter to three, he arrived in front of the Leaky Cauldron. He hadn't been stupid enough to fly across London, where any muggle could've seen him though. Thanks to the many charms he had learned over the summer, he was able to charm himself invisible; only for a limited time, of course.

Swallowing back a large lump that seemed to have formed in his throat, he stepped into the grungy pub with his broom positioned over his shoulder. His hair was tousled from the wind, his cheeks flushed a light pink from the cold, and many heads turned when he entered. They turned back to their friends to whisper. Draco knew that, behind his back, he was talked of as the 'last sane Malfoy.' As he pulled the hood of his cloak up and over his head, he briefly thought of how sorry they'd be if they knew his father was here.

Slowly and carefully, as if he had just become wary of going to meet his father so suddenly after his escape, he weaved his way through the crowded pub. He climbed a case of rickety stairs and followed his footsteps down a short hallway. It was dark and quiet up here, which Draco assumed was the reason his father had picked to meet here. No one would have noticed if he entered in disguise.

He stopped when he read the number fourteen on the door near the end of the hallway. He paused, took a deep breath, and knocked lightly on the door.

"Who is it?" A voice responded quietly.

Draco closed his eyes, swallowing another lump again. This was hardly believable. "It's Draco."

There were footsteps behind the door before it opened up a crack, a dark eye peeking out. It observed Draco for a few seconds before opening the door all the way.

"Hurry, come in," the man said hurriedly, in a slightly raspy voice. He stretched an arm out to motion into the room, and Draco made his way promptly inside. The room looked comfortable enough. Two fluffy armchairs sat in front of a blazing fireplace, and a medium bed sat in the corner beside a small table.

His gaze, almost too cautiously, moved to glance at his father, who had seated himself in one of the armchairs. The hood of his dark and shabby robes had fallen off to reveal... Lucius Malfoy. The same Lucius Malfoy that disappeared into the Azkaban prison a year ago. Nothing looked physically different; all except his robes looked in perfect, clean condition. Draco stared.

"I'm glad you could come meet me on such sort notice, Draco," Lucius said. His voice was no longer hurried or raspy. But... there was something Draco noticed. His father's eyes. They were somehow different. "Wondering how I'm doing, aren't you?" The man questioned.

Draco blinked, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Yes... how did you escape? How do you look so well? How did you get here?" Eventually, Draco stopped, deciding to take the spot in the armchair opposite his father. Lucius chuckled.

"Those are complicated to answer. Why don't you inform me of what's been happening in the world while I was gone?" Lucius leaned forward. "Tea?" He drew out his wand, gave it a quick flick, and a tray with two cups of tea appeared on another small table beside them.

Draco ignored the tea for the time being. "Mother is sick." Eyes were averted toward the floor.

There was a soft 'hmm' from where his father was sitting. Nothing else was heard from him. "And she's been away from the house almost every day. She's been lost without you, father. She's depres" Draco paused when he felt a heavy hand on his leg.

"Let's not worry about your mother at the moment. I need to discuss other matters with you..."

"But"

"No, we don't have time for it, son."

Draco glanced toward that hand, then back up at his father. That's when he noticed jut what exactly was wrong with his father's eyes. He was sick too.

There was a sense of fear that welled up inside of Draco then. His father held a stare that had the shadow of someone that had steadily grown insane while in prison. The shadow of a man who could hide it easily by a calm and unnaturally kind behavior. Draco shifted uneasily in his chair.

"What did you want to discuss?" He asked softly. He could no longer look at his father, so he looked back down at the floor instead.

"Have you found anyone yet?"

Draco stayed silent for the following few seconds. "Found... anyone?"

"Yes," Lucius lifted the hand that had been on his leg up to his chin, lifting it upward so that Draco could look at him. "You're the only heir, Draco. In order to keep this going, you eventually must create a child."

Draco's eyes instantly widened. "What? W-what exactly is this 'this'? I haven't found anyone. I'm only seventeen, father."

Lucius seemed to frown. "In order for the Malfoy bloodline to continue following the Dark Lord"

"The Dark Lord?" Draco broke in. "But I don't want anything to do with that!" He shoved his father's hand away from his face. Suddenly, that hand came back and slapped him hard on his right cheek. Draco let out a startled cry. "Why are you doing this?" Draco spoke faintly.

Lucius stood up quickly, his dark glare now resting on his one and only son. "I will not have my son defy the Dark Lord! You are going to serve him whether you like it or not! Is that clear?"

Draco swallowed back something that he knew was very close to tears. "Father... no..."

Another hand came down to strike him on his opposite cheek. "You've always been weak, Draco! I thought you would've learned by now! Has me being put away by a boy your age had any effect on you!" Lucius didn't bother to notice Draco's obvious pain. The boy was cowering in the chair, not daring to get up.

"Stop acting like this! What is it? Are you really this cowardly?" Draco didn't respond, let alone look up. Not until he received another hard slap to the face, that was. "Look at me, boy!"

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... please, stop..." Draco muttered in a whisper.

"Then tell me! Tell me why you're disgracing the Malfoy name! You haven't even found a girl yet? That's the easiest task, Draco!"

"It's not that..."

"Tell me then! Don't tell me that you take it up the arse! I will not have a queer as a son!"

"No, it's not that either! Stop doing this! I just don't want to follow Voldemort, okay! This is my life, not yours!" Draco made a quick move to stand up, but he instantly saw another hand heading his way. He put out his arms to block the fourth hit, but his father ended up grabbing both his wrists instead, and pushed him roughly back against the chair. His arms were stretched and pinned over his head as his father leaned in close, scowling.

"I assume that you've chosen for me to force you to decide which side you're on."

Draco squirmed beneath his father's angry glare, pulling weakly at his wrists. He couldn't believe this was happening. His father had definitely gone insane in Azkaban. He never would have hit him before; he never would've laid a hand on him. But now... "I am on your side!"

"Then say that you'll follow me to the Dark Lord's side."

"Please, father... don't make"

"Your choice, Draco," Lucius said coldly. Before anything else could be said, Lucius forced his lips onto Draco's. It was the most unexpected, and the most revolting thing he'd ever experienced.

His eyes widened again, and he made a choked coughing noise in the back of his throat. He tried wrenching his wrists from that hold above his head, but his father still appeared to be stronger. Everything was beginning to happen too fast after that, and Draco couldn't stop it.

He could feel Lucius' tongue forcing its way into his mouth, where he choked again, and shut his eyes as tight as he could. His first instinct was to bite, but the tight pressure against his wrists made him quickly rethink that idea.

That tongue then left, with the lips soon following, and Draco took that chance to plead with his father to stop. "Please... stop... w-what are you doing?" Lucius had begun to bite sharply at Draco's ear, then traveled further downward to lick down his neck. Draco gave a short whimper, tilting his head back. An attempt to get his father off of him was to arch forward, but that didn't seem to be helping either.

"Eager, are you?" Lucius whispered against his neck, his free hand beginning to undo the clasp of Draco's cloak, and then the buttons of his shirt underneath.

"Nononono..." Draco repeated beneath his breath, shaking his head and urging himself not to open his eyes. The hand moved beneath his shirt, and then slid along his chest. Lucius was in quite a rush, and frankly, at the moment, Draco wished to be dead.

More of the biting was done there, Lucius' tongue and teeth leaving faint red marks against his skin. His breathing was starting to quicken; he was fighting not to get sick. His father was beginning to move up against him, in motions that were much too slow and much too close. Draco moaned, feeling himself grow hard, yet very unintentionally. He was disgusted with himself;_ this_ was shaming the family. Not defying the Dark Lord.

There was a purr like sound from Lucius, and Draco hardly heard him. He was concentrating so hard on being somewhere else. "Your body appears to be enjoying your punishment, hmm?" That larger hand suddenly jerked downward, grabbing the part of him that he was only too eager to keep away from the invading fingers. He gave a loud, startled gasp and arched violently forward, trying to push his father off. Again, it didn't work, and it made the grip tighten. Draco let out a pained moan.

"Stop, please... please... don't do this... please..." Draco pleaded, louder this time.

"I've already given you a chance, Draco. You have to learn your lesson... to know who has the higher authority..." Lucius began stroking in quick, rough motions, earning several more gasps from Draco and the sensation of nausea, mixed with the forced pleasure.

All of a sudden, he felt himself being tossed onto the floor, the hold on his wrist leaving. He was laying stomach first on the large rug in front of the fire, his eyes burning and his head spinning. As soon as the fact of being freed sunk in, he struggled to stand up and run to the door. But his father stopped him; even before he could lift himself up from the floor. "Now let this teach you to never disobey me again..." Lucius whispered, leaning down so his voice was only inches from his ear. By now, hot tears were beginning to leak out from the corners of Draco's eyes. He couldn't move. He heard a sound that sounded horribly like a belt dropping to the floor. He could feel his father's legs pinning each of his sides.

All he could concentrate on now was the fast beating of his heart, the way everything seemed to be slowing down, the way his father was leaning over him. Once he felt all the remaining clothing leave him, he tried to hold his breath. Tried to pass out. But nothing happened, and he let out a loud cry when he felt the unwanted and violent intrusion. Black patches faded in behind his eyelids, along with more of the strangled sobs... and the unbelievable pain. It wasn't long before he fell unconscious.

Later that evening, his father covered Draco up with one of the blankets from the bed, but kept him lying on the floor. Then... he left.


	3. After Hours

Draco woke up to a dark and very chilly room. The fire had died out, and he somehow knew that he was alone. He shifted around beneath the blanket, in which he didn't want to wonder about how it came to be there, and instantly felt a dull, throbbing pain both below and above him. He groaned, shutting his eyes quickly.

After a few more minutes of just lying there, he finally gathered up enough strength to push himself up. He sat on the floor, the blanket hanging loosely around him and in his lap. He bit his lip in order to keep back another low moan. He felt as if he were aching all over. The memory of what had just happened to him was flooding back into his mind, leaving him feeling sick again.

All of a sudden, he felt the urge to thrown up all of yesterday's meals. With a quick heave, he pushed himself up from the floor and took a moment to look around for the bathroom door. He ran over to it once it was spotted, went through so fast that the door banged against he opposite wall, and then lifted the toilet seat up before collapsing over it. He coughed up most of what was probably in his stomach; the fact that he had only eaten one spoonful of porridge this entire day didn't process well with him.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. He was telling himself that it hadn't. That this entire thing had only been a nightmare. Yet he couldn't find himself to believe that for very long. He felt disgusting and dirty, violated and betrayed. He didn't know what to think now; he didn't know what to do either. He didn't _want_ to join the league of Death Eaters. He knew it'd only end up with them all dying at the hands of the good. He didn't want to get in the middle of it. But he didn't want his father hurting him again.

Grabbing a towel from a spot beside the sink, he used it to wipe the cold sweat from his face. Then he put the toilet seat back down, using it to rest his head on. His eyes closed as he sat there on his knees, not wanting to move but knowing he had to return home sometime. Not that anyone would be worrying about him at the moment.

Draco had managed to get back into the room to search out his clothes in the dark. He dressed very slowly and drew the hood of his cloak back over his head before leaving. The pub was nearly empty now, except for a few suspicious looking creatures sitting in the far corner. They paid him no notice, and as he left the Leaky Cauldron with his broom, he saw that it was even darker outside. It must have been about eleven o' clock.

Glancing about the street with narrowed eyes, he tried to make sure that no one was lurking around anywhere, or sneaking up on him. He felt more panicked and worried than ever before. He felt like his father could be anywhere waiting for him. He quickly wiped at his eyes and mounted his broom, which made him wince slightly. Not too soon after, he took off and sped over the city as fast as he could. He was no longer worried about using the charm.

As soon as he got home, he went up to his room and layed back on his bed for the following few hours. He couldn't get to sleep. He felt too tired to sleep, which really didn't make any sense at all. He was afraid that if he closed his eyes, more of the images would come flooding in.

After minutes more of this never-ending torture, he moved from his bed and into the bathroom to take a shower. He stripped himself of all of his clothes and stuffed them in the wastebasket, not necessarily caring that they had been expensive. He scrubbed himself down with hot water until it stung too much to do anything further. And even after doing so, he still didn't feel any better. He trudged back into his room, pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms, and buried himself beneath his covers.

He cried himself to sleep.

The next few days he did nothing but stay in his room reading. The note to his mother was long forgotten of, and he could hear her passing his door occasionally through the night. He assumed that she had heard of Lucius escaping, but she had forgotten all about Draco to come and talk to him about it. She most likely didn't believe it herself; she'd been so depressed for all those months. He was reading more about the subjects in school. He was assigning himself even more things to do to pass the time. He no longer thought that eating was important. He skipped both breakfast and lunch, and only went down for a sandwich when it came time for dinner. Hunger didn't seem to be with him anymore, along with any sign of caring or happiness that he had felt before, when he first found out his father had escaped. He had also cried so much, that he thought it was all that was possible in his lifetime, and he punished himself for letting that situation turn into something so bad by forcing himself awake.

It was only the night before he would be leaving for Hogwarts that he went to sleep earlier than normal. He had packed his trunk with all of the same clothes and things from last year, since he had enough school ingredients, books, and supplies in the house to last him a lifetime.

Draco didn't feel any aching or soreness anymore. It had faded away a couple days ago, along with everything else. He supposed this was good. Walking around the school as if he were walking on hot coals would certainly not prove to be helpful. The best thing to do was to never let anyone know of anything that had gone on this summer, and to try and ignore as many people as possible. That way he could get through the year unscathed.

Which is what he believed he could do.


	4. An Early Awakening

He woke up to a very peculiar feeling. He wasn't sure if it was morning or not, but the slightly tingling feeling on his thigh was certainly rousing him from sleep. He let out a small, tired noise and turned onto his side.

As soon as he felt that hand slip between both his legs, he jerked away, his eyes snapping open and his body lifting so that he was pressing his back against the headboard. It seemed as though his movements had been practiced, but there really was a good reason to panic.

"Quiet," the hooded figure hissed, "I can't stay here long. The Ministry officials will be here looking for me."

"Get out of here," Draco warned as he slowly edged his way off the opposite side of the bed. He searched out his wand on his bedside table, gripping it as soon as he felt it beneath his fingers. He stood there, silently and shakily watching his father.

"Now, now, Draco. You don't want a repeated punishment, do you?" Even though Draco couldn't see his father's expression, he could picture his eyes narrowing and that emotionless smirk forming.

"Please... get out. Like you said, the ministry officials could get here at any time." His tone shook; his legs seemed to be growing unable to hold his weight. Lucius chuckled.

"Scared, are you? Have you decided?"

There was silence.

"Have you?" Lucius' voice rose.

"No." Draco swallowed; his throat was beginning to burn.

"Do you need assistance, then?" Lucius took a smooth step to the side, so that he was beginning to move around the bed to where Draco stood. "You're a stubborn boy, Draco."

"Leave..." Draco said. It was hardly audible. "I'll curse you, father."

"You couldn't do that."

"I will."

"But aren't you happy to see me?" Lucius drawled. Draco could see him inching forward. He lifted his arm to try and keep his wand steady on the him. "After coming all this way just to see you?"

Draco remained unmoving and silent. Lucius took another step forward, so that he was a mere inch or two from Draco's wand point. He grinned. "I really am sorry you're angry, son, but you'll be joining me anyway. After your seventh year has finished."

When his father paused, Draco heard a small sound coming from somewhere outside his door. But he didn't dare look away from his father; he continued thinking of which curse he'd have to end up using.

"Don't you believe me? I am _very_ sorry. You know that I..." Lucius paused for the second time, and before Draco had time to properly think of a spell, the man had snatched the wand roughly out of his hands. Draco jumped back. "... love you." Lucius finished. His grin turned to one that looked like he had truly gone mad.

"You should never threaten to attack your own father, Draco. You thought I wouldn't dare come back here, did you? Well, it's lucky I have. You've turned against me, instead of learning your lesson." Lucius advanced on him quickly, and Draco could only think to run. He turned and tried escaping by way across the bed.

His father ended up catching his ankle halfway across, and he pulled hard enough so that Draco's arms collapsed beneath him and he was being dragged backwards. "Stop! Let go of me! I've learned my lesson, I promise!"

"Oh, you have? Why didn't you say this earlier, when you were pointing your wand at me? Could it be because I'm ready to force it out of you again that you've finally chosen right?" Lucius stopped pulling and Draco gripped tightly onto his bed sheets. Tears had begun running down his cheeks again; he had been wrong.

"Yes... yes, please... don't hurt me. I promise I won't disobey you again..." Draco was pleading again. His mind was slowly becoming cloudy, making it hard to think. All he wanted now was for his father to be persuaded enough to leave him alone.

"Not good enough."

"W-what do you mean?" Draco asked quietly. His face was buried in his bed as to hide his obvious weakness.

"You know that you'll turn your back on me as soon as I agree to not use force." He made a short tsking sound.

"No, that's not true!"

"Then you'll allow me to punish you." Draco was jerked backward by his ankle again. Draco started kicking and pulling himself the opposite way.

"No, don't! Not like this! Please... you're just sick, father... don't do this to me. I'm your son! I promise that I'll listen now!"

Lucius had managed to take hold of both his legs to flip him forcefully over onto his back. Before he knew it, two larger hands were pinning him down. His father's face loomed above him.

"Get off of me!" Draco screamed. His head was definitely starting to hurt now; and tears were blurring his vision. His heart felt about ready to burst out his chest. His hands were pushing hard against his father's shoulders, but he wasn't budging. His legs were pinned beneath him.

"Not until I'm finished with" Lucius was cut off by the sound of shuffling outside the door. He fell still, while Draco still tried to fight him off with no success. After a few seconds, Lucius started speaking again, in a low whisper. "Tell _anyone_ about this, and I'll torture you until you _wish_ for something as fast as this." With that, Lucius climbed off of him to stand, then apparated.

Draco stayed where he was laying, trembling and looking up toward the spot his father had just been a moment ago. He only saw the ceiling now. He had been so close...

"Is someone screaming?" A soft voice asked from outside the door.

"Go to bed, mother!" Draco shouted, the words barely leaving him. When he heard the shuffling head down the hallway, he let out an angry cry and sat there huddled on his bed.


	5. Train Ride

Draco hadn't been able to get back to sleep after that. Until it was well into the morning, Draco finally began to move. As he did, he felt something poke at his foot. He jumped, and when he looked down, he spotted his wand lying on the bed beside him; he was definitely relieved that his father hadn't decided to take it with him. Though, Draco was sure of the reason why it was still here with him; his father's hands wouldn't have been able to hold it whilst doing other things.

As he slid off of his bed, he let out a shaky breath. He'd been ready to go to school today with no worries, but now he was feeling dazed all over again. He was wondering how his father could think of doing these things to him. He wondered what could've happened in Azkaban to make him go from caring about him to something like this...

Aurors would have been looking for him, and after telling Draco to be quiet and that he was in a rush, he did the exact sort of things that seemed like he wasn't. Draco didn't want to figure out why that was, or why his father might not be worrying about being caught, so he tried to think of school instead. His classes, his housemates, his...

His mind was wandering off course again. He wiped at his eyes; this was getting extremely difficult to do. It seemed now that every other second he'd be fighting back the burning in his eyes.

Draco arrived at Platform 9 3/4 five minutes before the train was due to leave. From the strange passing glances he was receiving on his way toward the Hogwarts Express, Draco gathered that he probably looked fairly sick. There were dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep, and hemost likelylooked much thinner than before from cutting back on the eating. But he tried dressing as neat and orderly as he always did; he only hoped nothing looked wrong enough to be noticed.

"Draco!" A shrilly voice called from down the platform. He turned around slowly, somewhat hesitantly, to come face to face with Pansy Parkinson.

"Hi! How was your summer?" She asked, her voice a bit too loud. Without any consent, she made her way quickly forward and enveloped him in a tight hug. "I just got back from Spain, can you believe it?"

"I can believe it," Draco replied, adopting his usual drawl. He let her hug him, but he stood there quite motionlessly. "And my summer was fine, thank you for asking."

Pansy and himself had gotten a bit closer during sixth year, though he was sure it wasn't as close as Pansy wanted them to be. He knew they'd never survive if anything were to go into a relationship. However, she was the only person that acted as more of a friend to him than anyone else, and he supposed a tiny part of him was grateful for it. Even if she was doing it for her own reasons.

"What did you do?" She asked curiously, pulling away from the hug, "And we'd better get onto the train before it leaves without us." She smiled and took his hand to lead him up the steps; his trunk was lugging behind him. He assumed she'd already put hers on the train. Also, normally, he wouldn't have allowed her to _lead_ him anywhere, but he didn't find himself in the mood to fight it.

"I stayed home," He answered shortly.

"Oh, well that's alright! I heard about your father, and I think that's great! Isn't it?" They both had climbed onto the train and were making their way down the corridor, when he stopped after hearing her words. He nearly stopped breathing. She turned around when she tugged and there was no movement. Her eyes narrowed confusedly. "Draco, are you alright?"

A few more seconds and he finally shook his head to get that uneasy feeling away of him. It didn't help too much. "Yes, I'm fine." Nothing further was mentioned of his father, because she had taken a few more minutes to make sure he wasn't lying to her. So when she started talking again, he allowed her to ramble on about her summer and all the clothes and things she had bought. She even went on about the problems of other peoples' families (probably some she had visited), thinking that he cared, and for once he was thankful for something like this to distract him.

Then, just when he was sure that they were near their compartment, someone bumped rather rudely into his shoulder. The snide remark that would've been thrown over his shoulder in an instant was replaced with him backing quickly up against the corridor wall in surprise. He looked over, and the other looked back at him at the same time. It was Potter. The boy narrowed his eyes at him, and he scowled right back. There were no sorts of apologies exchanged. Potter walked off in the same direction he had been heading.

Draco hadn't noticed that he was breathing quickly, and it was Pansy who brought him out of it again. "Draco, hello? What's gotten into you today?" She sighed and rolled her eyes, tugging on his hand again, and dragging him into a compartment. Sullenly, he pulled his trunk in after them, and set it beside Pansy's own, which was in the seat across from them. "You looked like you'd just seen a ghost, Draco. You really aren't acting like yourself."

He felt her press her hand against his forehead, and as soon as his breathing calmed, he leaned his head back against the seat. "I'm okay, honest." He wasn't even in the mood enough to push her hand away, like he would've usually done. Then again, there were normally more Slytherins around. He wondered where they all were, and then realized that he had come to the platform late.

Suddenly he remembered that he also had a prefect meeting to go to. He let out a tired sigh. Pansy seemed to sense his distress.

"You know... maybe I should go to that meeting alone. We're supposed to be there right now, and you look really sick." She looked at him, and he let his gaze wander onto her. He couldn't tell if she was sincerely worried or just wanted to earn her way onto his good side.

"Yes, you go. Tell McGonagall that I ate something horrible. But don't tell her that I need help, and don't let the Gryffindors hear you."

Pansy nodded, standing up and making her way out of the compartment. For the short second she took to open and close the sliding door, Draco got a glimpse of Potter coming back down the hall. To his surprise, he didn't feel anything.

Something told him that he should be happy right now, to finally have something on the boy; Potter thought his father would be locked away forever, and that Draco would never end up hurting him because of it, but now... everything had changed. There was no urge for Draco to hurt the boy though... but he still felt that small bit of hatred that bubbled up every time they crossed paths. There was nothing more and nothing less.

Once the door was closed, he leaned his head back again, and was thankfully undisturbed for the entire trip. Well, Pansy had returned eventually, but no one had come to wish him well on hearing about his father escaping (most of the Slytherins, that is), which was quite suitable.

Things were starting to look up.


	6. Catching Up

The train arrived at the station by Hogwarts well into the night. All the students bustled off, just like every other year; the first years went off with Hagrid, whom Draco still personally disliked, and the rest of the students headed back to the castle in carriages drawn by invisible horses. Their school robes had been put on, and Draco found himself making his way out with Pansy at his heels.

"We should go find the others," Pansy said offhandedly. Draco didn't say anything. "Would you like to?"

"I don't care."

So, she tugged him further down toward the carriages. When she spotted the usual group of Slytherins chatting off to the side, she made her way over. Draco recognized Blaise, Theodore, Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent all standing in a huddle. Each of them looked rather pleased about something. "Hello everyone." Pansy greeted.

"Hello Pansy," Blaise returned, "Draco."

Draco nodded, not really in the mood to talk. But they made him join the conversation soon enough, and he didn't need to act too surprised over the topic they had decided to choose.

"So you've all heard about the Death Eaters escaping? My father said the ministry is all worked up over it, and they've gotten the dementors back guarding the castle," Blaise started.

"Yes, I heard. My father sent me a letter already, but he didn't say where he was," Theodore added. "I don't blame him. They say as soon as they're caught, they get the dementor's kiss." All of them appeared to shiver at the thought. All except Draco.

Crabbe noticed Draco being more silent than usual, and he used an arm to elbow him into the center of the group. "So have you heard anything, Draco?" Millicent asked. They all looked to him, since they still considered him as the leader of their group. Draco would give anything to not have it that way anymore; he just wanted to be left alone with all information regarding his father. It managed to make him feel sick every time he was brought up.

However, as much as he'd like to stay silent, they'd only think something was wrong, or that he'd possibly gone onto the 'good' side. If that happened, one of them was bound to let their parent know, who were bound to let his mother know, or maybe even his father, and he would be in for worse. This is what he got for telling a small lie to his housemates. He sighed, and straightened up, trying to keep himself calm.

"Yes, I have heard something. My father sent me a letter too."

"Oh, what did he say? Anything about what they're planning to do?" Theodore asked.

"No, he wasn't able to give me any details. He had me meet him though, and it was lucky he didn't get caught. It was quite crowded where he had chosen, and he knew it wouldn't be safe to go back to our house." Draco shrugged, but forced a well-practiced smirk to appear on his face. "But I'm pretty sure they're going to do something that's worth their time, don't worry."

The others grinned and nodded, and then began whispering to eachother again as they split up into two separate carriages. Draco climbed into one with Pansy and Blaise, while Millicent, Theodore, Crabbe, and Goyle went into another. This was the second year the two larger boys weren't flanking Draco's sides; he'd decided he didn't need them protecting him anymore. It seemed childish and it was always mentioned when the Golden Trio chose to harass him.

The carriages steadily made their way to the front steps that led into the Great Hall, and he proceeded to climb out with the rest of the Slytherins. He was doing a fairly good job, he had to admit, on talking, laughing, and grinning in all the right places when he wasn't necessarily listening.

"Oh, look who it is! Scarhead and his two sidekicks, the Weasel and Mudblood," Pansy chided. Draco cast a cool glance to the side to see Pansy facing the Slytherins' three most hated people. They'd stopped in the middle of the hall to glare at them.

"Bugger off, Parkinson," Weasley said, looking irritated.

"Ooh, good one!" Pansy smirked. "And what makes you think I'd do that?"

"Just leave us alone for once in your pathetic lives," Potter replied tiredly.

"Did you have yourself a nice summer, Potter?" Blaise crooned, ignoring the comment.

"Yes, did you? I'm sure all of you are thrilled to know that your no-good parents are out rampaging all about Britain." Harry narrowed his eyes. He looked extremely angry.

"Fuck off, Potter," Draco snapped. His eyes narrowed just as well. He could see even more of that anger directed at him, once those pair of eyes met his.

"You fuck off, Malfoy," he retorted.

"No."

"Yes."

"You're just angry that you couldn't keep them locked up."

"No, I'm angry because they're all bastards," Harry growled. "And they don't deserve a second chance."

Draco suddenly took a step forward, so that he was a fair distance closer to the other boy. He felt furious all of a sudden, with no real reason at all. He had no reason to disagree with Potter's description of his father. None at all; in fact, he had a feeling that he'd agree if the circumstances were different. But that hatred was bubbling up again, and there was no way Draco could stop it.

"They'll come to kill you, Potter." His voice was a near whisper, his tone threatening.

"Not if I kill them first." Harry kept his gaze locked and steady on Draco's, his Gryffindor defiance keeping him in place. "Every last one of them."

Finally, after staring heatedly at Potter for what felt like several minutes, Draco backed away from him and joined the rest of the group again, who were watching him eagerly. They had probably wanted to see him curse the living hell out of the Golden Trio, or at least Saint Potter alone.

"Let's go..." Hermione motioned to the two boys before they started to head toward the Great Hall again. Most of the crowd of students had already gone inside.

"You should've punched him in the face," Blaise commented dryly.

"Yeah, did you hear what he said about our parents!" Theodore said angrily. His face seemed to be turning an angry red. Draco turned around to look at them.

"Really, do you want to get in trouble with one of the Professors on the first day?" He sighed, acting like it were the most obvious thing. Which it was, but Draco had a feeling he wouldn't have bothered to punch Potter even if he did have the chance.

He'd never admit that a small part of him, the part that was absolutely terrified of his father, wanted Lucius gone as much as Potter did.


	7. Another Owl

The following two weeks were transforming into something almost completely unbearable. His housemates talked nonstop about their parents, or, if they received letters, of how their parents progress was growing. At every meal, they looked up keenly, hoping for any sign of an owl, hoping that a Daily Prophet or more letters were coming along with them. Draco was amazed that no one, especially the professors, hadn't suspected anything yet.

Perhaps they didn't think that the Slytherins at this school were untrustworthy. Knowing Dumbledore, he probably though the letters were from their loving families, and he'd smile in his unsettling way as he looked over at them, whilst they were tearing their letters open.

Bloody stupid Headmaster.

Classes went on normally, except the homework that they received was much more elevated than the piles in previous years. Draco was grateful, however, because it gave him an excuse to stay out of most of his housemates' discussions, while they chose to put their own homework off until later.

Except for one day where Blaise chose to walk over to him. He had a letter in his hand. Draco assumed he had some 'oh-so-wicked' news on what the Death Eaters were doing now. When Draco got in the mood enough to where he didn't care about hardly anything at all, he began to wonder why his housemates liked this news so much, and why their parents, whom were supposed to be on the run, were sending their children letters to a highly guarded school.

"Hey Draco," Blaise said casually, dropping the letter on top of one of Draco's schoolbooks. The envelope was dirty and slightly worn. "This is for you. The owl over there brought it in." Blaise turned to point at something sitting on the windowsill.

Draco glanced to the spot where Blaise was pointing and felt his stomach instantly drop. The large black owl with the silver talons and unnaturally mean glint in its eye was perched there, watching him.

"Oh," Draco muttered, "Thank you."

He tore his eyes away from the owl, wondering why it hadn't left yet; last time it had flown off almost right away. Draco was hoping that it wasn't expecting some sort of... response.

Draco looked back down at the letter. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, recognizing the thick scrawl on the front. It was labeled with his name. A small jolt of fear shot through him; he knew that he'd rather not open this. The fireplace was only a few strides away...

"Are you going to open it?"

Draco jumped, his head snapping back up to look at Blaise. He had forgotten that they boy was still standing there.

"Yes, get away! Privacy, Zabini!" Draco glared at him.

"Alright, alright!" Blaise lifted up his hands in an apologetic motion, and then began walking away with a slightly agitated expression. He was shaking his head.

Once the boy was gone, Draco turned his attentive gaze back onto the envelope. He found himself closing his eyes, wishing that it'd just go away.

_"Stop, please... please... don't do this... please..." _

_"You're a stubborn boy, Draco..." _

_"... you'll allow me to punish you..."_

Draco opened his eyes again, feeling tears build at the corners of his eyes. He used one hand to wipe them quickly away, and he stood up in a way that was sure to draw in some glances. But he didn't notice. Without providing an excuse for it, as his housemates were now watching him carefully, he walked slowly up to his dorm with the note still clutched in hand and his homework abandoned.

The door slammed shut behind him as he entered his dorm and walked over to sit on the edge of his bed. He made sure that he was alone before he looked uneasily down at the letter. He was too nervous to hesitate for much longer, so he opened the letter cautiously and began to read:

**Dear Draco, **

**I hope you haven't told anyone. I trust you've learned well enough by now, however cowardly you've proven to be. **

**I must tell you that I am doing well and that not one lead on our whereabouts is provided to the Aurors. **

**I'd like you to meet me in the Forbidden Forest near your school tonight. Do not worry, I know you have heard that Hogwarts is guarded by dementors. It is not; I have gotten word that Dumbledore had refused. **

**Quite fortunate, but foolish on his part, when seven Death Eaters are on the run. **

**I will see you soon. Send this back with the owl to let me know you've received this. I will find out if you have thrown this letter away. Let no one follow you, and tell no one of this meeting. **

**L.**

Draco sat staring at the letter for several more minutes, already feeling a painful clenching feeling in his chest. It suddenly became hard to swallow.

He wanted to curse something. How could they let letters like this pass through without inspection! Didn't they know that a fair few Slytherins might have contact with the escaped Death Eaters? Especially himself?

His father was certainly taking a risk in getting in touch with him. Draco only wished that his father wasn't so lucky as he thought himself to be.

And Draco knew that If he told someone of where his father would be tonight, he knew that he'd find out. He'd run further away and punish him later. Draco also knew that if he didn't show up or send the letter back, he'd somehow find out about that as well. He knew this from before, when his father was... well, Draco just knew that you could never get away with anything when Lucius was your father.

And he was scared. Scared of what would happen if he dared to disobey his father again.

Therefore... before he went off to dinner with the rest of his house, he went back downstairs to tie the letter onto the owl's leg. It nipped dangerously at his finger, probably hating him for making him wait that long, and then took off into the darkening sky.


	8. What is Forbidden

Draco snuck out of the Slytherin common room after he was sure that everyone was fast asleep. It didn't take much. A dozen or so Slytherins with full stomachs and a new head full of gossip were certain to doze off for hours on end.

He was dressed as dark as possible, which wasn't too hard; his entire wardrobe consisted of something dark. His normal school robes were black, as well as his cloak, which was draped over him and over his head. He'd also slipped his wand into his pocket.

It was no surprise that he was becoming increasingly edgy and worried as he made his way through the vacant and silent common room and out through the entrance. And even more so as he made his way through the stone corridors in the dungeons, then on his way up to follow a stealthy path into the Entrance Hall.

The thoughts of what was going to happen when he met his father in the forest were none that he was too welcome on having. Though, if he was wrong, and if all his father wanted to do was inform him of things and wonder if he was ready to join the Dark Lord yet, Draco would tell him all that he wanted to hear. Maybe that'd prevent those serious consequences...

Lost in thought on his way down one of the dim hallways, he bumped into something that was clearly solid. He stumbled a step back and glanced quickly up at the object. For a moment he thought that it was a professor, and that he'd get into trouble for sure. Then he'd miss meeting his father, and he'd have to write a letter explaining what had happened...

But it wasn't a professor. It wasn't even a statue, or a wall. It was... nothing. Just an empty hallway extending out in front of him. His eyebrows furrowed as he scanned his eyes across the hallway; his hand automatically went into his pocket to retrieve his wand. His ears seemed more open to the sounds around him.

There was definitely a sound. It sounded like someone was hiding in the shadows, breathing softly, trying to keep quiet so they wouldn't be spotted. However, Draco was getting a bit more nervous. There were no places to hide.

"Who's there?" He whispered finally. His voice shook. He heard a definite hitch in breathing. "Answer me."

Slowly, and after several more moments, someone emerged from the darkness, looking as if they'd evaporated into view out of thin air. It was Potter. Again. Yet, now that Draco thought of it, he hadn't seen the boy since they first arrived at Hogwarts, excluding when they were in their classes. They'd basically been avoiding eachother.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked, his eyes narrowing. His hand restlessly gripped tighter around his wand.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Harry repeated, frowning.

"I'm a prefect, Potter." Draco scowled. "Now what's your excuse?"

"You don't look like you're on prefect duties, _Malfoy_."

"Since when do you know what our responsibilities are?"

Harry didn't answer. He merely stood there, glaring as if it'd help him win the argument.

"Well, points will be taken for your late night wandering. Now get lost," Draco hissed.

"You're up to somet..." Harry started.

"Oh, just shut it! I'm not up to anything!" Draco objected.

"What else would you be doing?" Harry angrily started again. His fists were clenched.

"Worry about your own life, Potter. No one needs you acting like a hero whenever you suspect that they're up to no good! Now leave before I go and fetch Professor Snape!"

With an expression of extreme annoyance and distrust, Harry stormed his way past, purposely running into Draco's shoulder so that he'd stumble sideways. Draco grimaced. That was the bloody second time he'd done that.

After a brief turn around to see that Potter was making his way down the hall and away from him, he started forward again, and quickened his pace out the doors and toward the forest.

A deep breath was taken before he actually stepped over the border dividing the forest from the school grounds, and he knew right away that now was not the time to change his mind and scurry off back to the castle. He began making his way through the thick branches and pitch black darkness, wondering whether or not he was supposed to know where he was going...

Little did he know that someone had come back to watch him enter the Forbidden Forest. The pair of emerald eyes were narrowed in obvious irritation as they stood near the doors, knowing he'd been right about something.

_Well, let him go and get himself into deep trouble_... the boy thought, before taking one last glance and then stepping back into the castle.

* * *

Draco began panicking when he started losing his way. Not that he'd known where he was heading to begin with. Shaking, he pulled out his wand, holding it out in front of him. "Lumos," he whispered. He began turning around in all the directions, looking for some sign of light as to help lead him to his father.

As he turned around to look back the way he had come, he felt himself being abruptly pushed up against a tree. He coughed, the breath nearly being knocked out of him. His eyes flitted upward to glimpse at his attacker; he wasn't even sure if he had wanted to see what, or who, it was.

"Draco? No one followed you?"

Before his head lowered to stare at the ground, he felt his father's hands leave his shoulders and then saw his quick glances around the area to make sure they were alone.

"No, no one followed me," Draco replied quietly.

"Good, and you've been a good boy and haven't told anyone about this or anything else?"

"Yes."

"So, I have given some thought to what shall be happening. Very soon, that is." Lucius began pacing about in front of Draco, looking a bit fidgety. Draco wondered briefly how he had managed to come into the forest, and where all the other Death Eaters were, but thought it best to not say anything until it was asked or expected of him.

"You're nearing the last year at the school, and are clearly in no condition to pursue your duty as a follower... so you need training. Of course, not at this exact moment, or even while you are still attending the school, so you'll be notified of where to meet me as soon as you get off that train. Your mother will not worry."

Draco opened his mouth to speak. Not go home after the year was over? He'd never get to see anyone he knew ever again! Not unless they were planning to join the dark forces along with him. And what of his mother? She'd eventually get sick enough that she'd end up not being about to take care of herself. Yet...

Draco closed his mouth, allowing his father to say whatever else he had to.

"Understand? There will be no resisting," Lucius added, turning to Draco to stare seriously at him. Draco nodded obediently. His gaze fell onto his father for only a moment before it drifted downward again.

Lucius gave a satisfied smirk. "Very well." He began pacing again.

A minute passed before Draco felt like he needed to ask about whether or not they were through with this meeting. His father had fallen quiet and was standing still, appearing to be thinking about something. "Father, would you like me to leave now?"

He noticed the man look up, a strange glint in his eye. "You may not. You've forgotten something quite important."

"Forgotten something?" Draco asked, feeling a shiver move down his spine. The fear and worry was flooding back; there was something familiar in his father's stare.

"Yes, I don't recall having finished what was started the last time we met." A small smile quirked at the edges of Lucius' lips. "You can't slip your way past a punishment, son."

Draco's breathing stopped. Eyes widened fearfully. It took him a moment or two to back away from his father; he moved around the tree and slowly backward. "I- I thought we've settled that already..." He whispered. "You know I'm really sorry..."

Lucius shook his head, that disturbing smile still on his face. He began taking small steps forward. "If you run, it'll only make it more painful, Draco. You run, and I _will_ use an Unforgivable."

Draco stopped, the usual fear building up into what he knew were going to be shouts or cries. He was frozen to the spot; he didn't know what to do. His father had him trapped.

Though, when Lucius made a quick move to grab at his arm, he jerked away and took a sudden step backwards. Suddenly, he felt himself tumbling to the ground, his back hitting the ground rather hard. He'd tripped. Breathing quickly, he looked up at his father as he tried scrambling away and bringing himself upright again. But his father was too quick; he'd already made his way forward and lowered himself on top of him.

Both of his wrists were snatched by one of Lucius' hands, and were stretched painfully above his head. He let out a small cry, trying to push his body sideways to tilt the other body off of him. He knew it wouldn't work, but he also didn't think it right to not at least try.

"You're resisting," his father commented, his voice low. He suddenly leaned in close, his legs straddling Draco's waist. "The Unforgivable curses apply to this too." Draco felt the tip of a wand press below his chin, which caused him to tilt his head back. "Please..." Draco begged. His eyes were shut tightly. "Don't do this to me. I'll do anything..."

"Let me do this, then. If you don't resist, I won't hurt you," Lucius replied softly.

"Please..."

"Please what?"

Draco let out a deep breath, his body falling limp. He looked up at his father with dark and pleading eyes, his bottom lip between his teeth. He just wanted to leave... if his father could only understand that he'd never do or say anything wrong again...

Lucius gazed intently back at him, pausing in doing anything further after his wand drew away from Draco's chin. He was waiting for something to be said. When nothing was, and when Draco made no other move to speak, and when he thought that the grip on his wrists was loosening, he felt that free hand coming up to trace lightly down his neck. Draco felt his walls falling away; he was going to give up.

His father leaned down close to his ear. "Don't fight me," he whispered. Draco could feel his hot breath against his ear. He felt the other man move suggestively against him. Draco let out a helpless whimper. He was trying to find somewhere else to be.

His eyes returned to shutting tightly again, when he felt lips press forcibly onto his own. When his father wanted to deepen it, he didn't put up a fight as he parted his lips and allowed him access. He fought back the sick feeling growing in his stomach; he knew that his father would make things worse if he found out about it.

The kiss turned to several more down along his jaw, then down the sides of his neck. He winced at each bite that was given, and gave an involuntary shudder when the red marks were soothed once more by the other man's tongue. Time seemed to be moving extraordinarily slow; Draco felt like he'd now rather have been cursed to nothingness.

As the movement of Lucius' hips began grounding up against him, he let out a low, uncontrolled moan. He knew his body was reacting in all the wrong ways to his father's touches, but he couldn't force himself to stop even if he tried and tried even more. His hands tugged lightly at his father's hold. Hands began to skillfully undo the clasp on Draco's cloak, then toward the few buttons on his school robes, and to the shirt underneath. When his bare skin was revealed, the hand slid over leisurely his chest.

Teeth soon followed, biting and tasting slowly down his skin, earning several more helpless whimpers of mixed pleasure and defenselessness. Draco felt a tongue giving particular attention to the small pink rises of skin, and could feel himself growing aroused for the second time this had ever happened; which was another time too many.

"Oh god... p-please..." Draco breathed. A few hot tears ran down his face. His father didn't notice, or was deciding to ignore him completely.

Lips were beginning to move back upward again, placing several more fervent kisses against his lips. "Get up," Lucius whispered, drawing away for just a moment. Draco didn't think he was hearing right, not until he heard his father's voice rise. "Get up!" Draco's eyes snapped open, and the grip on his wrists was tugged above him. Draco shakily and hastily got to his feet, his father still keeping a good hold on him.

"Turn around," Lucius ordered. Draco did. His wrists twisted uncomfortably in his father's grasp. When his back was pressed against the man's chest, he felt his breathing quicken. He was trying not to let each breath sound like a choked sob; he was struggling to keep himself calm and unafraid in his father's standpoint. He knew it wasn't working.

"I'm going to let go of your hands, and you're going to hold them against the back of your neck. If you don't, and try to run, you know what I'll do. I promise you that. Understand?"

Draco nodded weakly, a small sound leaving the back of his throat, one that was brought on by his fear of being here and doing this. That hand let go of his wrists and Draco lifted his arms so that they were propped behind his head. He could sense that his father was enjoying this obedience, and it once more made that sick feeling surge up inside of him.

A hand curved around to his front, working at Draco's belt as his chin rested lazily on his shoulder. He felt the other hand holding onto the side of his waist. Draco fought to stare straight ahead of him, into the darkness. It was then that he noticed his wand was lying on the ground by a tree further away; the Lumos spell was still active, and he realized that he must've dropped it when he'd been pushed into the tree.

Suddenly, he felt cold air hit his very apparent erection, and he closed his eyes in shame. He wasn't enjoying this... he wasn't at all... Draco could feel more of his now silent tears fall onto his bare chest. His father's hand wrapped around him, and he let out another weak moan, his head tilting back against his father.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear another faint sound. He wasn't paying attention to how his father's other hand had moved to undo his own pants. It was only when Lucius whispered in his ear when he finally grasped onto what was coming. He felt a desperate urge to hold back on what his father wanted him to do with the way his hand was moving along him. "It's time, Draco..." He heard his father murmur softly.

By now, Draco was shaking uncontrollably, his knees feeling weak enough to collapse beneath him. He could no longer breath evenly, and his heart was beating at what seemed to be a thousand times per minute. He sucked in a deep breath when he felt his father position himself at his opening. Nothing was done to prepare him. His father pushed into him quickly. Draco let out a loud cry and felt his knees fall out beneath him. The hands behind his neck gripped tightly enough so that he could feel his nails digging into his skin; his father's hand was gripping him tightly around the waist, so that he wouldn't fall onto the ground.

Spots were dancing in Draco's field of vision again. At each thrust, he gave a loud, breathy gasp and a deep, drawing sob soon after. That other hand was still jerking at his throbbing member, which had grew to become as violent as his father pounding into him.

As soon as he felt himself come for his father, without much of a choice, he felt the slow dawning of unconsciousness gaining up on him. Blackness was clouding his vision now, and the last thing he remembered was dropping to the ground. The world faded around him.


	9. Someone's Missing

When Harry arrived in the Great Hall, he noticed quite a bit of whispering at the Slytherin table. He could catch onto a few words here and there, and by the sounds of it, they were talking about the one and only Draco Malfoy. Harry frowned. He looked around to see if he could spot the boy looking particularly proud about something, but didn't see him anywhere.

He made his way over to the Gryffindor table, taking his usual spot beside Ron and Hermione. "G'morning." He greeted.

"Morning, Harry," Hermione spoke from behind the Daily Prophet. Ron only gave a small 'mmph' as his hello; his mouth was full of food.

As Harry let out a long yawn, he began piling food onto his plate. It was a Saturday, and since everyone seemed to be talking excitedly about something, it managed to get Harry into a good mood. At least, he wasn't worrying about anything too important until he began to hear the whisperings coming from the Slytherin table.

_"Yeah... Draco wasn't in his bed in the morning..." _

_"Isn't he usually sleeping after everyone else?" _

_"... I think I heard someone getting out of bed last night..." _

_"The library... the infirmary... down most of the hallways..." _

_"No, we can't find him..."_

Harry thought idly of how much the Slytherins worried too much about Malfoy. He wasn't too big of a loss, anyway. He didn't seem to treat them so well most of the time.

But then... Harry remembered last night. He remembered Malfoy running into him and making a big fuss about how he wasn't up to anything. Then Harry had followed to make sure the boy wasn't lying, and sure enough, he'd been heading into the Forbidden Forest.

The last time Harry had been in there with Malfoy was when they'd gotten detention in first year. And that certainly hadn't been a pleasant experience for him. Then again, Voldemort was in the woods, so...

"I have to go fetch something really fast. Be right back you guys," Harry said, sounding exasperated all of a sudden. He was cursing his stupid need to see if everything was alright. Even if it was Malfoy, he couldn't think he could live with not being able to help the boy. He could be lying dead in that forest for all he knew, or maybe hiding in a random classroom in the castle, wanting to be left alone.

Both Ron and Hermione looked at him curiously from what they were doing, nodding lightly. "Alright, Harry. See ya soon, mate," Ron muttered.

Harry gave a small wave after them as he hurried out of the Great Hall. He looked behind him before he stepped outside. It was fairly cool; the sun hadn't come out yet. He narrowed his eyes and looked in the distance to see if he could spot anything that might've been an arm sticking out of a clump of trees. There were none.

_I can't believe this. After being a git for seven years, I'm actually going to do him a favor. He better not be inside..._

Harry started his way across the grounds, heading toward the place he thought he saw Malfoy heading last night. It had been extremely dark then, but he needed to start somewhere. And he needed to get back quickly; fetching something didn't require two hours.

As he knew it was against the rules to enter the forest, he moved quickly, fighting back to the branches as he made his way through. He had taken out his wand and muttered the Lumos spell. Even though it was morning, it was still fairly dark beneath the trees.

He kept on going for what felt like fifteen or twenty minutes, and then he spotted a dim light further ahead. He let out a frustrated breath; if he got killed at any time... by centaurs or whatnot, he'd be furious.

"Malfoy!" He called out. He didn't hear anything in response.

He neared the light and saw that it was a wand. Probably Malfoy's... chances were high that it was, at least. He looked up slowly to gaze around the surrounding area. That's when he saw him. A pale form laying beneath what looked like his own school robes and cloak. His eyes were closed; his breathing was coming out quickly.

"Malfoy?" Harry repeated, a bit less strongly this time. He hadn't expected... this. What had happened to him! He walked over tentatively, as if expecting something to jump out at him and do the same thing. "Malfoy, are you okay?"

The boy didn't seem to hear him. He looked as if he were asleep. Harry proceeded to kneel down beside him, now seeing that the boy looked in worse shape than he had further away. His hair stuck to the sides of his flushed face, he only seemed to be breathing out of his nose, and he was laying curled up beneath the clothes that were being used as blankets. Harry didn't think that Malfoy had anything on underneath, and that maybe it wasn't something in the forest that had done this to him...

Harry shook the boy's shoulder. "Wake up, Malfoy... please!" He said hurriedly, loudly. Malfoy stirred, letting out a soft groan. "C'mon, get up!"

Finally, after what felt like ages, the Slytherin's eyes opened slowly, blinking back confusion and then furrowing his eyebrows as he looked over to Harry. "What...?"

"Malfoy, I don't have all day! We have to go and get you some help!" Harry said, irritated. He tried finding an arm so that he could tug the boy up. But when he tried, Draco jerked away.

"Get off of me!" He said coolly.

Harry frowned. "You need some help."

"No, just leave me alone!" Draco snapped. His gaze moved around him, to finally notice that he wasn't even in his clothes. Quickly, he used his hands to push himself upright, and grabbed hastily at all that was covering him. "Get lost, Potter. I told you not to follow me!" He was trying his best to keep cool and composed, but the pain that had shot through him when he moved made him wince and suck in another deep breath.

"Malfoy, just shut up and accept my help. I'm not about to bloody kill you," Harry shot back. Just watching the other boy struggle to move made him wince himself.

"I can get back myself!"

"No.."

"PLEASE!" Malfoy shouted, interrupting him.

Harry stared at him. Draco was using a nearby tree to pull himself up onto his feet. He was clutching tightly onto the robes to keep them over himself, and was moving at a dangerously slow pace. When there was a small moment where the hold slipped through Draco's fingers, Harry spotted a few red marks along his neck and further down his chest. He was about to ask what they were...

"Leave, Potter! Stop bloody watching me!" Draco nearly screamed; Harry was afraid he'd wake up the entire forest and draw attention from the castle.

"I'm going to help you back whether you like it or not," Harry replied stubbornly. He allowed his eyes to turn to the side, so that he was at least following Draco's plea to stop looking at him. His arms crossed over his chest.

"Since when did you start caring about me?" Draco muttered. He was trying to dress while looking up at Harry every second. The pain and the need to keep himself covered was making things a little more difficult, but he managed to do so in due time.

"Are you done?" Harry said distractedly. He'd turned around, so the he was watching another part of the forest.

"Yes," Draco answered darkly. "Why don't you answer my question?"

"What question?" Harry turned back around. He spotted Draco leaning against the same tree, looking very tense and strangely sickly. He'd put every last piece of clothing on, so that all but his face and hands were covered.

"Why do you _care_ about what happens to me?"

"I don't," Harry said quickly, with a shrug.

"Then why the hell don't you leave already?"

"Because, leaving you here would make me just as bad as whoever or whatever did this to you..."

"Did what?" Draco snapped.

"I'm not sure. You tell m..." "Nothing happened. I just lost track of time and fell asleep. The cold made the aching start." Draco glared at him.

"With your clothes off?"

"Yes!"

Harry looked at him disbelievingly, and then stepped over. Draco leaned away from him, his expression extremely distrusting. "I don't need you to lead me out of here."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Then go get your wand." Harry pointed over to the wand still lying on the ground. It was at least six strides away. Draco idly followed his finger.

"Fine."

Draco slowly drew himself up to his full height, and took a tentative step forward. Pain seared through him again, and he thought suddenly that he was probably bleeding. He closed his eyes. "Just get me my fucking wand and let's go."

Harry shook his head, having known Draco didn't seem in the shape to go walking out of the forest himself. He went over to snatch Draco's wand from the ground and then walked back over with it, holding it out to other boy.

"Thank you," Draco said hotly, snatching it away from him and slipping it into his pocket.

Then he stood there awkwardly. If it had been anyone else other than Potter out here to help him, he would've been a little bit more accepting of the situation. But now... this was incredibly embarrassing and ridiculous. He knew Potter would be having a few laughs with his Gryffindor buddies later.

"Ok, c'mon," Harry suddenly said, breaking the silence. He knew more than thirty minutes must have passed already, and his housemates would be wondering where he was.

"C'mon what?" Draco asked.

Harry let out an aggravated sigh. He held out a hand.

"I'm not holding your hand. That won't help."

"Not my hand, Malfoy! Just put your arm around my shoulder and I'll try and help you from there!"

It took Draco a few seconds before he decided there was no other way. If he wanted to get out of here, and in a decent amount of time, he'd have to at least go with what the boy was offering. With a face that showed that this was almost repulsive to him, he grabbed the boy's hand and pulled himself close enough to drape an arm around his shoulder. He heard Harry mutter a few things beneath his breath. He ignored it.

From there, Harry took a step forward. Draco followed beside him, but had to pause right after. It hurt every time he took a step, and he was started to get bloody tired of it.

"Can you even walk now, Malfoy?" Harry asked, glancing at him.

"No, but thank you for asking," Draco commented dryly. "Just keep moving."

"Damn it. I knew you weren't out for prefect duties you know. It was a bad idea to come out here."

"So, why should I care what you think?"

"Because I could've very well left you out here!"

"How did you know I was out here anyway!" Draco shot at him.

"I followed you last night to see if you were lying."

"Oh, thank you. Completely invade my privacy."

"Well, look where you are now!"

"I CAN SEE, POTTER!" Draco felt like tearing his arm away from the boy now, but somehow he thought it wouldn't do any good, and he'd end up having to do this all over again. So, with a resigned huff, he shut up.

Harry another large, abrupt step forward, and Draco nearly tripped. "What was that for?" He snapped.

"For being a git even when someone's helping you in your time of need," Harry responded angrily.

"My time of need?" Draco questioned. Another painful step was taken. Then two more.

"Yes, your time of need. Actually, you've always needed some sort of help..."

"I'm flattered to know that you've worried before this."

"This _isn't_ worry."

"Alright," Draco said. He stopped talking. Arguing was making him tired again, and he didn't enjoy talking to the boy anyway.

Thankfully, Harry didn't say anything else either. Not until they reached the castle did Draco force Harry to let him go off alone. It took a lot; apparently Harry didn't think Draco was safe until he reached the infirmary.

But when Harry let him go at the main doors and then went off inside to find his two pals in the Great Hall, Draco headed back to the common room. There was no way he'd go to the infirmary; people would find out.


	10. Keeping Back

Author's Note: I realize that I had a few typos, missing words, etc. in Chapter 9, and I just wanted to apologize for that. I didn't read over it before it was posted, and it's quite a hassle to edit it once it gets on here. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter.

* * *

Draco repeated the same routine as last time, when he'd returned from the forest and parted ways with Potter. He made his way slowly over to the bed, collapsing on top of it. All of his housemates were still at breakfast, so he relished in the alone time that he had. He wasn't up to seeing any of their faces anyway; they were just as bad as Potter at this point.

He layed there for a few more moments, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't blink. He didn't move. He couldn't feel anything; he was trying to keep himself from breaking down like all of those other times. He knew it wasn't right.

Then all of a sudden, his blank gaze turned into a narrowed glare.

Potter should have just left him there. He couldn't bloody deal with this. He couldn't go around school acting like everything was alright every time this happened. And the boy should've minded his own business; he had no right to come help him when all he wanted was for him to go away. If the Gryffindor only knew about his father... he wouldn't have even bothered with him. He'd have been too engrossed in catching his father.

Draco stood up quickly, which made that pain sear through him again. He fell against the floor on his hands and knees with a short gasp, shutting his eyes tightly.

All he could feel was anger welling up inside of him after that. He pushed himself up, proceeding to the showers to wash off everything that was creating all the problems within himself... he felt dirty no matter what he did or told himself; it was like a layer of clothing that just wouldn't come off.

As he used one hand to prop himself against the shower wall, he looked down to watch the hot water swirling down the drain. After a moment or two, he noticed that some of the water was turning red. Draco let out a long breath of air before moving his back against the wall. His eyes closed again.

Ten minutes later, he went back into the dorm and changed into clean clothes, then made his way slowly over to the bed again. He didn't fall asleep crying this time; he fought them back until he was left with a dull, burning headache. He slept until dinner.

* * *

Classes didn't go by normally after that. Draco sensed that everywhere he went, everyone had their eyes following him. Though it wasn't hard to guess why. He walked either very gingerly down the hallways, or with a faint limp. He also couldn't sit still; he supposed this was the main reason, because he usually was still while in class.

"Draco, what's the matter?" Pansy whispered beside him for about the third time. Snape was busy lecturing them on a potion's ingredients while writing it on the chalkboard.

"Nothing," he snapped. His voice kept below a whisper as he once again shifted around uncomfortably in his seat.

"Stop moving then," she said irritably.

"Shut up!" Draco snapped again.

Pansy glared at him. He felt a tad bit bad about getting angry with her, but that feeling didn't last more than a minute. He was too busy with trying to make himself rest in a comfortable position.

He felt eyes on the back of his head. And considering that he sat in the front, he wasn't sure if it was one person or the entire class that was looking at him. Weren't _other_ people moving too? Shouldn't they know that if Snape found out that they weren't paying attention, they'd get into trouble?

For only a moment, Draco glanced back to look at them all; perhaps to scare them into looking away from him. He instantly noticed that several curious gazes moved back toward their notes. However, there was one person who didn't look away; instead they fixed him with a hard stare, almost calculating.

Of course, this stare belonged to Potter. Draco gave him a dirty look before turning back in his seat. He had a feeling that the boy knew something, and it was unsettling. Especially since his housemates still didn't know about him and what had happened in the forest.

He stayed silent for the rest of the class, and only dared to move again when everyone else had started moving. Snape soon dismissed the class when all the notes were put away, and Draco was free to get up and leave before anyone else pestered him about his strange behavior.

Except his slow moving didn't help him in this matter. Pansy, Blaise, and Theodore all caught up with him once he left the classroom.

"Draco, were you sitting on something?" Theodore asked.

"No, I wasn't," he replied uninterestedly.

"People were wondering..."

"I was just hot and uncomfortable," Draco said.

Pansy made a coughing noise. Draco turned around to glare at her. "What?"

"Hot and uncomfortable?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"No, I'm being literal!" Draco snapped. He was beginning to get annoyed, rather than amused, at the way his housemates were beginning to get on his case.

"I saw you looking back during class for a second. What was that about?" Pansy asked.

Draco sighed and leaned his back against the wall. People were still filing out of the Potions classroom. He saw a few people glance at him.

"I was glaring at Potter."

"Today, all of a sudden?" Blaise questioned.

"When is there not a day where one of us glares at him? He's a bloody idiot."

Just at that moment, Draco noticed Harry and his two friends making their way out of the classroom. By the looks of it, the boy had heard what he'd said. Pansy, Blaise, and Theodore were all snickering. They didn't notice that he wasn't.

There was a look on the Gryffindor's face as he stopped beside them, which showed he might be thinking of saying something about the other morning. Draco narrowed his eyes, seeming to dare him wordlessly.

"I think you're the idiot, Malfoy," the boy said.

Draco stayed silent for a few moments, just staring. Then he smirked. "Now why would that be?"

"You know why." Ron and Hermione stood behind him, looking slightly less vicious than usual. Draco thought that Potter must have told them about the day he'd nearly dragged him out of the forest. He told his bloody friends everything, and chances were that they found a little place in their hearts to feel sorry for him. But he didn't _need_ pity.

"No, you tell me why," Draco replied coolly.

"Feeling any better?" Ron shot at him.

"I'm feeling wonderful, thank you."

Draco looked away from them, as if thinking that was the end of their conversation. His housemates looked at him oddly, wondering why Potter was talking to him like he knew something they didn't. Though they eventually got the picture, and turned their backs on the agitated trio.

"What was he talking about?" Pansy said in a hushed voice.

"Yeah, were you really feeling sick earlier?"

"No... he's just trying to make something up to get me angry at him..."

"Why? They haven't been around bothering us for a while."

"Just be quiet!" Draco warned; he glanced sideways to see that Potter and his friends were still standing aside, speaking quietly to themselves. He was thinking of how they better not be talking about him; he hated when people did that behind his back. "Let's get out of here."

They all nodded, and began making their way down the hallway toward the Great Hall. It was nearing dinner, and taking an extra trip back to the common room to deposit his stuff didn't appeal to him too much. He was still walking quite slowly. His friends didn't particularly notice; they were too busy talking and making jokes about the Gryffindors.

"Hey, Malfoy!" Someone called from behind him.

Draco briefly turned his head around to look, and saw that the Weasel and Granger were heading over. He was about to throw a quick comeback their way, but was interrupted when he felt a rough shove to his front. It caught him off balance and was sent stumbling backwards onto the floor.

The pain he'd been trying so hard to prevent from flaring up came back again, and before he could bite it back, he let out a low moan as he hit the floor. There was a breakout of cursing around him, and one of the Slytherins tried helping him up by his arm. He jerked away from the touch and layed there until he was able to prop himself up on his elbows. He blinked up and looked to see if the person in front of him was still there. Once again, it was Potter.

"What the fuck, Potter!" He hissed angrily. Steadily, he rose to his feet and began brushing himself off. The boy was looking at him as if he'd done something wrong.

"You're _not_ feeling any better, Malfoy," Harry accused.

"You just pushed me onto the sodding floor! There's no surprise there!"

"Yeah, but it wouldn't have hurt that bad. You looked like you were having a bit more trouble than normal."

"Since when did you decide that you know what I'm feeling?"

"Since I brought you out of the god damn forest!"

Everyone fell silent. It seemed like the Slytherins had formed one group behind Draco, and the Gryffindors behind Harry. The students that had been out in the hallway to begin with, at least.

Draco was fuming. He could feel the heat rising in his face, and he could feel Potter's burning stare. He didn't know what the hell had gotten into the boy; when had his health been a serious matter to him? It was none of his business! They were bloody enemies!

Finally, Draco spoke. "When was this, Potter? In one of your dreams?"

"Don't act like it didn't happen! If something happened in there that you think someone should know, then you should tell someone!"

"NOTHING HAPPENED!"

"So you did that to YOURSELF!"

"SO WHAT IF I DID!"

Harry marched forward unexpectedly, and Draco automatically took a step backward. "Get away from me."

The boy didn't listen, and instead stopped right in front of him. They both didn't move for what felt like minutes, and then Harry suddenly used a hand to pull up Draco's shirt. Draco instantly reacted. He grabbed the boy's arm and shoved it roughly away, before hastily tugging his shirt back down and pushing the other boy again. Harry seemed a little too unruffled than how much he should have been.

"What do you think you're doing! Have you gone fucking mad!" Draco shouted.

"You couldn't have made those kind of marks yourself, Malfoy!" Harry countered loudly. "You couldn't know that!"

"Yes, I could! You're too scared of physical contact," Harry said.

"Go away! Go off and mind your own life!"

"So something _did_ happen!"

Draco made a sound remarkably similar to a growl. He took a step forward, so that he was close enough to Potter so that no one else would be able to hear them. "If this is about my father, and trying to find him, you're heading in the wrong direction."

"Oh, I don't think I am," Harry said quietly. With that, the boy turned around and started to storm off down the hallway, summoning his friends to come with him.

After he left, all of the Slytherins crowded around Draco, asking him dozens of questions as to what that had been about, and why Potter had dared to touch him. Draco shook them off, saying that Potter had gone completely nutters. Not surprisingly, they agreed with him.

That is, all except one.


	11. Giving In

An hour after the Slytherins returned from dinner and were situated comfortably throughout the common room, Draco happily took the time to ward everyone off the couch so that he could use it himself. Happily was only to say that that was how good of an actor he could be. Though the couch did allow less pain, and he was able to lay there without anyone bothering him.

Yet, the bitter thoughts about Potter returned. If it was anything he wasn't expecting, it was for something like this to happen. The boy actually seemed intent on finding out what was the matter with him, if he felt better, and who did it to him. Caring about such things with someone who had spent their life _trying_ to hurt him just didn't seem right. Chances were that Potter was trying to making himself trustworthy enough so that Draco would end up telling him something.

But he hated dwelling on this. It was this very idea of worrying about this entire thing getting out, that he had gotten so worked up in the forest. Luckily, all of his housemates seemed to believe that it hadn't happened and that this ordeal with Potter was just a joke.

Draco glanced to the side to watch Pansy and Blaise for a few moments. He noticed that she was spending a lot more time with the other Slytherin instead of with him. Not that Draco particularly cared.

Blaise was reading her a note that his owl must've brought him during dinner. Which was another thing; they no longer spoke of what information they received anymore. They'd been keeping him out of the loop without him noticing. Draco's eyes narrowed before looking away to glare at the fireplace.

That's when Blaise suddenly came up behind him. Hands came down on his shoulders to get his attention, and Draco nearly jumped out of his skin. "Hey there, Draco. Don't have a heart attack." Blaise smirked and made his way around the couch to sit beside him; Draco made more room.

"What do you want?" Draco asked, thinking it had something to do with earlier. He took a quick glimpse to see where Pansy was, and he noticed her busy behind a book, yet she held a slightly sickly expression. She sat in the back corner of the room.

"There's something I've been wanting to tell you..." Blaise spoke, his voice rising to catch Draco's attention again.

The pale Slytherin looked back at him. "Which is?"

Blaise chanced a glance toward Pansy before answering. Draco noticed, but didn't want to think about it. There was rarely a time where his housemates were planning anything against him; nothing he should worry about, at least.

"Ok... itsbeenliketwoyearsandithinkimgay," Blaise said in a rush.

It took Draco a while before he fully processed that sentence. Thankfully that hadn't needed repeating. He spoke slowly. "It's been two years and you think you're gay?"

"Yeah," Blaise said awkwardly; he was fiddling with his thumbs while looking down at his hands.

"And... why would you want to tell me this?" Draco asked skeptically. He didn't act too abashed at the news; it seemed as though Blaise was lying.

"Because... er..." Blaise suddenly looked remarkably uncomfortable.

"Yes?" Draco urged impatiently.

"Well... you're the person... that I... like."

There was silence then, and Blaise continued sitting there with his gaze on his hands. Draco's facial expression didn't change at all, but he scooted a few centimeters away as he started to think.

_The entire school will end up going mad sooner or later..._

Blaise, gay? It seemed impossible to Draco. And why he chose to tell him now? Did anyone else know? Possibly Pansy. That would explain why she looked so nauseous. All Draco knew now was that he was feeling very... indifferent.

"Okay," Draco finally said. Blaise looked up.

"Okay?" He questioned nervously.

Draco shrugged. "I'm not gay. I'm sorry."

"Oh, okay," Blaise muttered quietly. He sat there for a few more seconds before getting up. "See you later, then." He made his way back over to Pansy, who Draco noticed was sending quick peeks Blaise's way.

Something had to be going on. Draco didn't think that now was the time to believe anything they were saying. Nothing like this happened out of nowhere. Everyone was going against their normal character. He sighed, falling back to lay along the couch again.

As he closed his eyes, trying to block out the sounds of talking around him, he heard a few snippets of conversation. Surprisingly, he recognized the hurried whispers as belonging to Blaise and Pansy.

_"You have a better chance than I do, Pansy." _

_"No, I don't! I can tell he'd never like me like that. It wouldn't work." _

_"Well what the hell do you want me to do, then?" _

_"I don't _know

_"Shh, he's just over there!" _

The voices lowered and Draco was no longer able to hear them. He was trying hard not to get up and go ask what the hell they thought they were doing. If they were planning anything, he wouldn't have any part in it. He wouldn't let either of them near him. Ever.

* * *

It was in the middle of sleeping when Draco suddenly felt himself warm up. The warmth seemed to be coming from somewhere below him. Every other second he felt a pleasantly warm shiver shoot up his spine, which left goose bumps along his arms. He shifted about feverishly, letting out a soft moan.

After a while, he felt that the source was actually coming from a gentle, pressuring movement against his groin. It was soothing... unlike the discomfort he had felt before. Another quiet moan was let loose; he wasn't content on waking up. He didn't want it to stop...

At that time, his eyes snapped open. He jerked away from whoever's hand had been doing that and hurriedly backed up against the arm of the couch. His eyes tried to adjust to the almost pitch black darkness that met him.

"Blaise?" Draco questioned. He thought he saw the boy sitting at the end of the couch.

"Hmm?" Was his response.

"What do you think you're _doing_?" Draco felt shaky all over. Whatever leftover pain he had been feeling from his encounter in the forest had completely disappeared. It left him surprised, but not enough to distract him from the other Slytherin.

"I was... um... massaging you?"

Draco remained silent. He sat there, staring at him.

"Draco?"

"I told you that I wasn't gay, Blaise."

"But you were just"

"I wasn't doing anything!"

"Yes, you were! You were moaning! I heard you!"

"Well..." Draco stopped, trying to think. He seemed to be getting confused. "Well... I... anyone would have, for god sake!"

"I'm not too sure about that," Blaise spoke quietly.

"I am," Draco shot back, annoyed. "I don't enjoy being sexually harassed by my own bloody dorm mate."

"Sexually harassed?" Blaise snorted.

"I'm not kidding, Zabini!" Draco's voice rose.

"Shhh. Everyone's sleeping," the other warned.

"Get away from me," Draco said darkly, "Please. So I can get up."

"You can get up without me getting away from you."

Draco glared, but was sure that Blaise couldn't see it. He stood up from the couch, trying not to run into the small table in front of the fireplace on the way toward the entrance of the common room. He could hear someone following behind him. "Don't follow me."

"You're going the wrong way. The dorm is behind you."

"I know. I'm leaving." Draco replied.

"Don't leave... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I thought you were just lying earlier, because you know... it's normal to..."

"I'm not!"

"Not what?"

"Just shut up!" Draco had felt his way to the entrance, and was now tugging it open. He stumbled out into the dimly lit corridor, where the light only radiated from the torches.

"C'mon, Draco..." Blaise pleaded, trying to get him to listen.

"Just leave me alone before I hex you," Draco threatened. He turned around to glare at the other boy again, feeling a bit better now that he could see him clearly. "I don't want you around me anymore. I don't like you. And I'm just tired of everyone doing this to me!"

"Doing what?" Blaise asked, confused.

"Just..." Draco sighed angrily, "Well you don't need to bloody know everything, alright?"

"Okay, okay." Blaise stopped talking for a few minutes. Draco thought that he might be getting ready to leave. If not, he'd be angry. They were standing in the middle of the dungeons, for god sake, and for no apparent reasonable reason.

"Can you just let me kiss you?" Blaise asked suddenly.

Draco scowled. "No."

"I _know_ you don't like me. It's just... it's been two years, Draco! At least for a few seconds... it's the only thing I'll ever ask of you."

"No," Draco seethed.

"Please?" Blaise repeated.

"No."

"Why no..."

"FINE! Do whatever the hell you want!" Draco shouted. It startled Blaise enough to send him stepping back a foot. Though it didn't take the boy too long to recover.

"Really?" He asked quietly. Draco merely stood there, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He wasn't sure if he was really serious or not, but he wanted Blaise to leave him the hell alone. He wanted everyone to leave him alone. They may think that he wanted all of this attention, but they gave no real regard to it and his personal privacy.

Blaise began making his way forward. He was eying Draco warily, as if he didn't believe him. "It won't be that bad..." He said, assuring Draco.

Draco still didn't answer. And then Blaise stopped, watched to see if Draco's expression changed at all, and leaned swiftly forward, catching his lips in an eager kiss. Draco swayed a bit backwards, and forced his eyes shut. He didn't feel disgusted, like he knew he should have... he knew he wasn't gay. But he did feel horrible; like he was allowing someone else to take advantage of him...

_"You're resisting... the Unforgivable curses apply to this too." _

_"Please... don't do this to me. I'll do anything..." _

_"Let me do this, then. If you don't resist, I won't hurt you."_

Draco struggled to shove his father's voice out of his head, and when he felt that Blaise's kiss was lasting far too long than what he had meant, he uncrossed his arms and tried pushing him away. He felt Blaise's hands move up to hold onto his waist.

He pushed again, becoming a bit panicked when Blaise didn't pull away and instead tried to deepen the kiss. Draco was beginning to feel trapped again. He shoved one more time, this time with all the strength he could. Blaise stumbled back onto the floor, looking hurt.

"I didn't say ten minutes," Draco said shakily.

"I...I'm sorry... just lost track of time..."

"Ok, well you got your kiss. Now please leave me alone."

Blaise struggled to stand up again, and he eyed Draco. This time it looked as though he might have felt sorry for him. Draco was trying to keep himself calm.

"Don't stay out too late..." Blaise started.

"I won't!"

With that, Blaise turned around and made his way back inside the common room, seeming to have a jump in his step even though he'd just been pushed to the ground. Once he was gone, Draco started making his way quickly down the hall. For some strange reason, his knees felt weak, as if he'd fall any second.

He was moving so fast toward the doors leading outside that he barely heard someone else running quickly ahead of him. And before he knew it, the person in front of him had stopped to listen, not knowing that Draco was behind, and the Slytherin ran straight into them.

When Draco looked quickly around in front of him and could hear heavy breathing, yet saw nothing, he knew who it was instantly. "Damn it, Potter." His voice sounded very strained, as if her were on the verge of breaking down. Harry drew off his invisibility cloak quickly, and backed away from Draco.

He looked slightly taken aback, and also very cautious. "Malfoy... again?"

"No."

"Out to get some more of those marks?" Harry's eyes narrowed.

"No." Draco's eyes were beginning to burn. He suddenly turned around to make his way around the other boy. But he grabbed his arm to keep him from going. "Let go of me!"

"I saw you in the dungeons, Malfoy."

Draco froze. "Let go of me or I'll hurt you."

Harry didn't. "Why can't you just tell me what's happening? I could help you, Malfoy."

"We hate eachother, Potter."

"I know... it's just, it doesn't matter who you are... if someone's taking advantage of you, then you should ask for help."

"God... just..." Draco started anxiously.

But that seemed to be it for Draco. He couldn't take it anymore. Instead of getting furious and shoving the other boy away, he did the complete opposite. He turned back around to face Harry, and leaned against him. He let his head rest on his shoulder. "You help me, then," he said softly.

Draco didn't want to do this anymore; he didn't have it in him. He was losing the grasp he had on his own life. Nearly everyone at the school was pestering him, either trying to get him to join one side or to take advantage of him. And his own father was abusing him.

All he wanted was for someone here to actually _want_ to help him. He didn't care who it was. And Potter wasn't pushing him away.


	12. Uncertainty

"Um... Malfoy?" Harry questioned quietly. "What are you doing?"

The sudden affectionate gesture certainly wasn't expected. Harry was having a difficult time figuring out if Malfoy was being serious or not. It was becoming hard to tell lately.

Draco felt Harry release the grip on his arm. He knew the boy was just standing there, not knowing what to do. And now, of all times. "Resting against you," Draco muttered against Harry's shoulder. His arms snaked up around the Gryffindor's neck, so that he wouldn't feel so awkward just standing there.

"Ok, well I think that's enough," Harry said, sounding confused and a little uneasy.

"You can get me to stop. I won't stop you," Draco replied lightly.

So Harry did. He lifted up his arms to wrap his hands around Draco's. From there he gently pulled the Slytherin's arms off from around him. Draco let him do so without a fight; he was feeling quite tired, and he really didn't care what Harry did at this point.

"Do you really want to help me?" Draco asked quietly. He hadn't moved away when Harry made sure they weren't physically touching anymore, but let his gaze fall to the floor. "Or is this still about my father?"

Harry watched him carefully, his eyebrows furrowing. "Well, I guess... he can wait."

Draco appeared to laugh softly, but it was hardly audible. "A Death Eater can wait? I don't remember you ever caring about me before he escaped from prison, Potter."

"Everyone's noticed that you look more sick than normal. Less like yourself. Someone needs to care, and even though I'd really... well, _enjoy_ catching your father..."

"Right," Draco said shortly. "Well that's expected, but my house hasn't noticed."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know what to say about that, but the Gryffindors have." Harry bit his lip, thinking hard about something. It seemed to take a while, so he must've thought this decision to help Draco was complicated. "I can try and believe that Lucius isn't the cause of you being like this, since you said he wasn't. But I don't know what else would've done that to you in the forest."

Draco looked up at Harry, hands slipping into his pockets. He needed _something_ to distract himself from looking or speaking directly at Potter. "Good."

"Was it Blaise?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Draco shook his head. "No."

"Then what...?"

"I don't know what he was doing just now. Just drop it. You want to help _me_ . I don't want to bring anyone else into this."

"But finding out who did this will make it easier, so nothing'll happen again!"

"I don't want anyone _else_ in this." Draco's eyes narrowed. "I can easily change my mind about trusting you, you know."

Harry sighed heavily. "Fine."

They stood there for a few more minutes in silence, before Draco spoke up so loudly that it caused Harry to jump. "So," he started, "Why don't you tell me why you were in the dungeons to begin with? Spying on me, were you?"

"No! I was just... you know, because of last time..."

"You wanted to make sure you didn't have to drag me out of the forest again?"

Harry shrugged, blushing a slight shade of red. Luckily, not much could be seen in the hallway. "Yeah, I guess so... and I wasn't expecting to find you like that."

"Well you could've left me there. I wouldn't have been surprised or offended."

"If you saw me laying like that in the forest, you'd probably want to do something too, even if it was me."

"I wouldn't bet your life on that," Draco said quickly. Harry glared.

Yet, he instantly tried to change the subject. "So if you won't tell me _who_ did it, can you at least tell me what happened?"

"I think you know what happened," Draco muttered, "After all, you keep on asking 'who did it.' You must know what the 'it' is." He looked up at Harry for a moment, before walking past him and toward the wall. It was darker there, and he'd prefer not to have Harry looking at him the entire time they had this conversation. Sighing, he leaned his back against it, looking down again.

Harry had followed him over, "Well, I can tell you what I think. Will you let me know if I'm right?" The boy ran a restless hand through his hair while he glanced over at Draco.

"No. If I want to tell you, I'll just say it."

"You're really making this difficult for me."

"You're the one who wanted to take the challenge of trying to help me. So deal with it."

Harry glared again, and Draco knew he was getting on his nerves. But he didn't quite care either. They were having a civil enough conversation, and that was a first for the both of them. He just hoped that Harry would keep all of this to himself, unlike before.

"You won't be telling Weasley and Granger any of this," he stated plainly.

"They wouldn't believe me anyway," Harry said.

"I don't care. Don't tell them even if you know they'll keep it a secret."

"Fine."

Draco frowned. This was getting a bit frustrating. Working with Potter now seemed to be harder than he thought. Then again, he wasn't used to getting help from someone like him, let alone anyone. Maybe he had to get used to it. Or maybe he was doing the wrong thing.

"I have to go now." Draco pushed himself away from the wall, watching Harry as if waiting to be excused. The boy only looked at him with a blank expression.

"Ok, see you sometime soon, then..." Harry mumbled.

Draco nodded, "Sure." Then he turned around and started walking back toward the dungeons. He heard footsteps going in the opposite direction behind him.

That was definitely interesting.

Draco didn't even notice that he wasn't worrying about anything else, other than how he was going to go about getting this 'help' from the savior of the school.


	13. The Morning After

It was the next day during breakfast when Draco heard more of the hushed conversation going on between Pansy and Blaise. He was beginning to wonder if they were even aware that he could hear them. They sat a few places away, leaning over the table as if about to kiss, but instead were speaking to eachother in soft whispers. It was irritating Draco beyond belief.

_"So?" _

_"So, he didn't really do anything." _

_"Nothing?" _

_"Well, he pushed me away." _

_"What in the world did you do!" _

_"I kissed him." _

_"What! Not yet! You're suppose" _

_"Quiet!"_

Fleetingly, Pansy glanced over at Draco, eyes widening a bit when she saw that he was watching them with a narrowed gaze. She quickly drew back into her seat, and Blaise followed suit, glancing over at him and smiling innocently. They began eating their breakfast, staying silent the rest of the time.

They were planning something; Draco knew now.

As everyone started leaving the Great Hall, Draco stood up and found himself running into someone else almost a second later. It was Blaise.

"Sorry," the boy said, sounding truly apologetic. He recovered easily, once again. "Hey, Draco?"

"What?" Draco asked coolly. They'd left through the doors, making their way back to the Slytherin common room to do whatever it was they were scheduling to do.

"I wanted to apologize for last night. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"What did you mean then?"

"I... well... I just lost control of myself. I really enjoyed kiss..."

"_Not here!_" Draco said sharply, cutting him off. He turned his eyes to glare icily at Blaise, which made the other boy frown. He looked hurt again. "I found no enjoyment. You need to go find someone else, Zabini."

"Why?" Blaise asked indignantly.

"I've already told you."

"You're not ga?"

"Not _here. _Hell, I don't need people thinking anything."

Blaise sulked for a few more seconds as they descended further down the hallway. Draco wondered where Pansy had gone; Blaise could've chosen to stay with her, for god sake. He wasn't in the mood to stand beside him at the moment.

"You don't trust me, do you?" Blaise asked.

"No, I don't."

"Isn't there a way I could get you to?"

"I doubt it."

Draco bit his tongue, trying not to snap at the other boy. He didn't want to start anything or draw any attention toward them... and yet he could feel himself getting angry again. He didn't notice that Blaise was busy glancing around, seeing if anyone worth worrying about was around. There wasn't anyone.

"Listen, Draco..."

The pale Slytherin was about to glance sideways at Blaise again, before he was pushed rudely against the wall. He hit it on his side, and a sharp pain shot up his arm. He quickly clutched a hand over it. "What are you doing?" He asked through clenched teeth. He was pushed again, this time against the wall by either shoulder. It didn't hurt as much as the first time.

Blaise looked him in the eyes, pressing harder into Draco's shoulders so that he wouldn't be able to shove him away. Draco didn't fight back; he was still holding onto his arm while starting intently back at the other boy. "I don't think you'll gain my trust this way."

"You'll _have_ to trust me," Blaise replied threateningly.

"Why, what's wrong with you now?"

"Nothing." Blaise glared. "You need to stay on our side is all."

"What?" Draco asked, confused. "What side?"

"_Our_ side," Blaise said quietly.

Draco suddenly lifted both his arms to try and shove Blaise away from him. It worked, but the boy came back on him fast, grabbing the front of his shirt with two hands. "Stop resisting, Draco. I'm trying to make this easier."

Draco's stomach fell; he suddenly felt sick.

_Stop resisting..._

"Let go of me. I am on your bloody side."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

Blaise seemed to pause and think for a few minutes, before his grip tightened and he pushed Draco up against the wall again. "You're not. I know. I got a letter."

"So what?" Draco snapped. He was starting to pale more than usual; things were getting out of hand again, and he couldn't find himself the strength enough to push back.

"The letter was from Lucius. He told me that you're having second thoughts about joining the dark side. You know you can't do that. Most of those Death Eaters will be counting on _you_, not us." Blaise's expression turned to one of slight disgust. "What are you planning to do? Joining Dumbledore and Potter?"

Draco stayed quiet. His angry expression fell, replaced by one that showed no emotion at all. His father had put Blaise up to this... Pansy _and_ Blaise. The only people that Draco was sure would never do something like this to him. Did they even know...?

"No, I'm not planning to join them," Draco said hollowly, "Please just let me go."

With hesitance, Blaise did. People were starting to peer over at them. Luckily there were hardly any students left passing through the hallway. "So you're sure?"

"Yes, I am."

Blaise appeared relieved. Maybe he hadn't been intent on hurting Draco to begin with. Though Draco felt shaky all over now, just like the nights he'd returned from seeing his father.

"Good," the boy started, "Because your father said that if you end up needing more convincing, we'll have to help him in that manner."

Draco nodded. What Blaise said didn't register with him; he was standing stiffly in place, eyes locked to the floor, the burning tears returning. His father had turned his own friends against him, or what he had thought were friends. Now he wasn't even safe at school. "Go now?" Draco asked softly.

"Sure," Blaise said, returning to his casual tone. "See you in the common room."When he left, Draco didn't bother to follow him back. He had no intention to; ever. He began walking back toward the Great Hall, wiping hastily at his eyes as he did so. People were still looking at him strangely, but he took no notice. He wanted to find someone.

When Draco spotted that someone ten minutes later, thankfully walking alone, he grabbed his wrist and pulled him quickly down the hallway. There was no protesting, but certainly a startled expression. Draco pulled them both into an empty classroom, hoping to god that no Slytherins had seen him. Once the door was closed, he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around the boy's shoulders. "I need your help right now," Draco whispered.

"Malfoy... what's wrong? Why are you doing... this again?" Harry asked, sounding faintly worried.

Draco guessed that 'this' was referring to being as close as he was. But he didn't know why he was doing it.

Alright, so he did. It was comforting in some way, and made Draco feel a lot better. What was more, he didn't want the boy to see that he was crying; he was ashamed that he was this weak. Especially since he had to go running for Potter just for some help.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked again. He was about ready to gently push the boy away again.

"Don't," Draco muttered. He buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck. "I want you to help me."

He heard a definite unevenness to Harry's voice then. "Okay, what do you want me to do?"

"Just..." Draco stopped, falling silent again.

"Are you crying?" Harry questioned quietly, shifting uneasily beneath Draco's embrace.

"Please." Draco's arms tightened around Harry as if it were the only thing that could keep him safe. "Don't let anyone try and control me... I can't take it anymore."

Draco sounded so desperate and so completely helpless that Harry couldn't help but feel bad for him. If something made him break down enough to come running to him, then there must've been no one else left for him to go to.

A few silent minutes passed as they stood there, Draco unmoving and waiting for an answer. Finally, arms moved up to wrap comfortingly around the trembling Slytherin.

"Ok, I'll do what I can," Harry murmured.


	14. Finalizing

Draco had eventually let go of Harry. He felt the way the other boy had been tensing up, and how every time he shifted one little bit, it got worse. He supposed that if their situations were exchanged, he'd feel exactly the same way. Hugging didn't seem normal.

They'd moved to sit on the floor, their backs to the door. Draco had tried to wipe at his eyes to a point where it wouldn't be obvious that he was crying, but it ended up making it worse. So he was sitting with one knee brought up to his chest and his elbow propped up on it; his hand was shielding his eyes, as if he were thinking. He wasn't sure of how Harry was sitting, because looking over at him felt awkward now that he had acted like that toward him.

"So," Harry started, breaking the long period of silence, "You realize that me helping you will probably let everyone know that I am?"

"Yes," Draco replied quietly.

Though he really hadn't thought of that before now. The boy was right. If he started to help him, and if it was something like keeping him away from everyone that was taking advantage of him, his housemates were sure to notice. And the one thing that was causing them to treat him this way was because of their doubt of his loyalties. Walking around with Potter protecting him was certainly a good sign that he wasn't content on joining their side.

Draco sighed, bringing up his other knee so that he could hide his face with both his hands.

"You don't want anyone to know, do you?" Harry asked knowingly.

Draco buried his face in his arms. "No, I don't. But I don't know what else to do."

Harry stayed silent for a few long moments. "Who exactly has been... doing this to you?"

When Draco didn't answer, Harry figured that he wasn't planning on telling anytime soon.

"You're not going to tell me?"

"I know what you're going to do if I tell you," Draco whispered.

"I promise I'll keep it to myself."

Draco looked up at him, eyes void of tears. His expression was one of worry, and he was trying desperately to determine if Harry was telling the truth about keeping it a secret. Draco didn't know what he'd do if he couldn't trust him, but he supposed it was alright...

"It's my father," Draco said softly. He returned to resting his head on his arms; his gaze staring ahead of him. "If you tell anyone, he'll kill you."

Harry bit his lip, closing his eyes as if urging himself not to start screaming. Draco had been in touch with his father just a while ago... and they'd only just been in the forest. He was so close. He made a frustrated sound, rubbing at his forehead with the back of his hand. "How come you've been telling me it wasn't?"

"It's called lying, and you and I aren't exactly on friendly terms," Draco replied dryly.

"Oh, really?" Harry asked, sarcasm in his tone. Draco turned his head to glare at him. "Sorry," Harry said darkly, "I guess it's just hard to believe that you're father would do this to you."

"You've been thinking it was my father this entire time."

"Well, that's because he's... evil. Ok, so it isn't hard to believe." Harry rubbed at his forehead again, and then dropped his hand carelessly onto his knee. "So why do you need protection here? Just don't go outside ever again."

"It's not that easy," Draco muttered. "My father's been sending letters to my housemates so they'll be able to watch me too."

"They'd do that...?"

"Yes, they would do that to me. Blaise seems to be on the verge of doing what my father has been doing. He doesn't trust me."

"So you want me to keep Blaise away from you? Should I tell Dumbledore?"

"No!" Draco said loudly. "No Dumbledore, no McGonagall, and no Snape!"

"What about..."

"No _anyone_!"

"So you just want it to be me, you, and your housemates that are in on all of this information about your father? Just keep it away from the ministry?"

"Yes."

Harry sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know why you want to do this."

"Just help me, okay?" Draco bit his lip nervously. "That's all. Once you leave Hogwarts, you can do whatever you'd like."

"Okay, fine," Harry stated tiredly. "But you'll have to tell me what to do now."

Draco felt instantly relieved to get Harry's acceptance. Persuading the boy-who-lived to keep information on Death Eaters to himself, and to protect the person he'd hated all these years, was about the most difficult thing to do, yet Draco managed to do so.

"Just... during meals and between classes and anytime before and after I wake up, try and keep an eye on me."

"Keep an eye on you? And how am I supposed to do that when you're in your common room half the time?"

"I won't be in there as much."

"Ok. I'll try." Harry looked a bit uneasy. "Can I ask you something?"

"I suppose," Draco replied.

What felt like five minutes had passed before Draco spoke up again, wondering if Harry was actually going to ask the bloody question. He was sitting there, opening his mouth as if about to say something, then closing it to think it over again.

"Get on with it," Draco persisted. "Don't be scared."

"I'm not scared," Harry defended quickly. "I just wanted to know... er... if you're..."

"If I'm what?" Draco's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Ok, well... do you like boys?"

"Why?" Draco snapped. He instantly wondered why he hadn't said 'no' first.

"You let Blaise kiss you. I don't think someone straight would let someone else do that even if they were beggi..."

"Yes, if the bloody person was begging!"

"You didn't even get sick."

"I was angry!"

"Ok, ok... I was just asking!"

"Fine! Well now you know!"

"But you didn't even answer me properly."

Draco stared at him. It wasn't an angry or curious stare; it appeared as though he was daring Harry to keep on going with his assumptions. Harry didn't seem to notice it.

"You hug me every time you're feeling bad. I mean, it's _me_..."

"I'm emotionally troubled, Potter."

"Can you just say yes or no?"

"No."

"No as in no, or no as in you can't say yes or no?"

"No as in no!" Draco snapped.

"Okay," Harry said simply. He stood up and brushed himself off. Draco looked up at him, eyebrows furrowing. He stood up slowly as well.

"Ok, well I think you should get those marks you have off of you, just in case someone else notices and they suggest you go to the infirmary. The nurse'll want to question you and such."

"I'm not going to go to the nurse," Draco said gloomily.

"Ok, fine. Let me help you with a concealing charm then. Take off your shirt."

"Excuse me?" Draco questioned, narrowing his eyes again. He crossed his arms protectively over his chest.

"So I can cover them all for you. They're still there, aren't they?" Harry asked. A few seconds passed. "_Aren't_ they?"

Draco glared. "Yes."

"Okay, then do it. It shouldn't be a problem. We're both boys."

"Yes, but you're Harry Potter."

"So?" Harry looked like he was becoming impatient. "Please, we've been here for a while already."

After much contemplating, and seeing as Harry'd been close to taking his shirt clean off in the hallway before, which was close enough already, Draco nodded. "Fine, but be quick."

Draco saw Harry roll his eyes before he began pulling his shirt up and over his head. He held it loosely in one hand and closed his eyes tightly, as if not wanting to see what was there or that Harry was still in front of him.

"What's wrong, Malfoy?" Harry asked. He took a step forward, drawing out his wand.

"Nothing," Draco answered hurriedly. "Do it, why don't you?"

"It takes more than a second!"

Soon, Draco felt the cool tip of Harry's wand against his skin. He heard a few words being muttered before a warm sensation spread around the one spot. It was repeated several more times, and Draco took no notice that his breathing was quickening.

"Calm down, Malfoy. It's not supposed to hurt," Harry commented distractedly. He'd drawn his wand away, slipping it back into his pocket. "I'm done."

Draco heard, and was just about to pull his shirt back on as quickly as he could, before Harry brought up both his hands to rest on his sides. Draco backed up immediately, his back hitting the wall. Eyes widened. "What are you doing!" He questioned loudly.

Harry grinned, as if he found something amusing, and took a step forward to replace his hands on Draco's sides, this time sliding them around to his chest. Draco closed his eyes, letting out a quiet whimper. The sensation he received was strange, and so gentle that he could say the boy was hardly touching him. He didn't know why he wasn't pushing the hands away.

Then, Harry stopped. He dropped his hands and backed away a few steps. The grin was still on his face. Draco was still breathing as if he couldn't get a hold of any oxygen. Eyes opened slowly, and when he saw Harry grinning, he frowned. "That was unnecessary."

"I knew that you liked boys," Harry said calmly.

"What? I didn't even do anything!"

"You let me do that, for one. I wasn't forcing my hands on you."

"I..."

"And you let out that sound. What was _that_?"

"That was..." Draco struggled to find a reply, but he couldn't think of one. He distracted himself by tugging his shirt back over his head. A good deal of time after that was spent getting rid of the wrinkles, even though there weren't any. Finally, "I don't know why you'd even want to know if I like boys, Potter."

Harry shrugged. "If you did, you could pretend to like Blaise, since he obviously likes you."

"He only likes me because of my father sending him a letter to watch me!"

"Yes, so if you act nice to him, he'll give your father good news. That'll make things better, won't it?" Harry looked at him expectantly. Draco merely stared at him again.

"But you don't seem to like Blaise touching you and things like. So, er..." Harry started to look as though he'd completely changed his mind on that idea.

"Wait," Draco interrupted. He looked slightly uncomfortable. "I can let him do whatever he wants. I know if I say I'm on his side, and if I ask him to stop if he's doing anything, he'll listen. It could help. You're right."

Harry nodded, "Good." A plan finally seemed to be finalized.

"So, I suppose I'll see you later," Draco said quietly.

"Yeah, and if you need anything... or if things go wrong, just try and find me." Harry smiled lightly. He went over to the door, opening it partway. "Secret's still with me."

Draco gave a small smile, though it was hardly one that could be considered one, and then watched as the other boy left the room.


	15. Plan to Lie

Draco returned to the common room later that evening. He had spent most of his time in the library, working on unfinished assignments whilst gathering up some bit of his courage to go back. He hadn't even gone to lunch or dinner.

"Hey, Draco!" Pansy greeted excitedly as he entered the common room. She sprinted over and nearly knocked him over when she brought him into a tight hug. He fought not to push her off of him; she knew about his father just as well as Blaise did, after all.

"Where have you been?" she asked. Draco looked around the room to see that everyone but Blaise and Pansy were already up in their dorms. Blaise sat in the corner, leaning over a table looking at a piece of parchment.

"In the library," Draco answered quietly.

"Oh, why were you in there? It's the weekend," she said, "You don't usually go in there."

"Yes, I do."

Pansy finally let go of him and took a step away. He could tell that something was bothering her, but she wasn't going to tell him about it anytime soon. He sighed and turned around, walking over to the couch to sit down lazily upon it. "You haven't noticed that I've been going there a lot lately, or working on homework in here."

She glanced down at the ground, looking guilty. "I'm sorry, Draco."

He didn't say anything. After a few silent minutes passed between them, he glanced up to watch her move over to the couch to sit beside him. "It's just that you've been awfully distant with us."

"I don't see the fun in talking about the same things we normally do," Draco replied quickly, "It's getting old."

"That's the thing... this really isn't how you ac..." Pansy started to talk, but was interrupted by another visitor. Blaise sauntered his way over, positioning himself comfortably between the two of them.

"Hello, what are you both chatting about?" He asked interestedly. Draco frowned, but quickly stopped when the boy looked at him.

"Oh Blaise," Pansy said, sounding tired, "Nothing. Just asking where he was."

"Oh really? Where were you?" Blaise questioned curiously.

"I was in the library," Draco stated dully. "Doing homework."

"Ah, I see," Blaise drawled. A smirk crossed over his face then, and Draco noticed the feeling of a hand coming to rest on his leg. He closed his eyes for a few moments, swallowing back the instant uneasy feeling rising in his stomach, and opened his eyes again. Blaise was looking at Pansy. "Well, shouldn't you be off to bed?"

Pansy gave Blaise an odd look before she seemed to change her mind and stand up. "Yes, I suppose I should get to bed. I'll see you both tomorrow. We can walk to breakfast together." She smiled and then turned around to make her way up to the girl's dorms. Blaise watched after her until she was out of sight.

Draco wished she hadn't left at all. Now that he thought about it, she seemed to be the only company in this house that he didn't mind having around. Besides, something about the way Blaise was acting toward him was making him regret having stayed seated when he had come over. And something else bothered him; like Blaise had wordlessly told Pansy that it was time for her to go.

"So, Draco," Blaise said from his side. Draco snapped out of the gaze he had positioned on the girl's staircase. The boy was smirking at him. "Were you really at the library that entire time?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Draco answered calmly.

Blaise searched his expression for a few moments before deciding that it was a waste of his time. Draco covered his emotions quite easily when he was determined to, which happened to be the case at the present moment.

"Well..." Blaise said, drawing out the word, "Want to have a bit of fun?"

Draco's gaze flickered to one of uneasiness again, but then snapped back into that blank state. He knew what Blaise meant by that, and he wondered why the boy hadn't bloody gotten the idea that he wasn't gay. But if he wanted...

"What sort of fun?"

"You don't know?"

The pale Slytherin felt that hand move further up along his leg. He felt a shiver coming on. Slowly, he leaned forward, placing his hand over the other boy's and pushing it gently away. "You should ask before you touch." He narrowed his eyes at him.

Blaise smirked again. God, that smirk was getting irritating. "Can I then?"

Draco stared at him until he thought he was ready for anything that was coming. If Blaise were to do things to him, it couldn't be bad. He wouldn't hurt him.

At least... Draco hoped so. He swallowed silently for a second time. "Okay."

Blaise seemed absolutely delighted that the boy said it was fine. Draco knew that if he'd said no, Blaise would've threatened him with a letter to his father anyway. It didn't seem fair, and he hadn't expected to run into a situation like this on the same day the plan was made.

He felt hands feel their way up his legs again. Things started moving incredibly fast. Draco's eyes gradually closed before Blaise leaned forward and pressed his lips against his. It didn't take long for Draco to start thinking of being somewhere else... or with someone else. Something about this didn't feel right at all, and not just because Blaise happened to be a boy.

Draco felt himself being pushed backward, his head tilting back against the arm of the couch. His eyes fluttered open as he felt Blaise move forward, his legs straddling either side of his waist. Hands began running up and down the front of his chest as Blaise ran his tongue over his lips. Draco didn't part his lips until he felt the other boy press hard against him; he let out a small sound in the back of his throat.

Soon the other boy's hands started edging their way beneath his shirt; he was distracting Draco by the slow movement of his hips. Draco's breathing was beginning to quicken again. When Blaise parted from the kiss every few seconds, Draco took in a quick breath of air; he was beginning to feel hot and flustered.

"What changed your mind, hm?" Blaise asked, also sounding a bit breathless. He began to trace his hands along Draco's bare chest, while licking lightly down his neck. Draco let out another soft moan, tilting his head further back. His hips arched up against Blaise, earning a startled sound from the other boy. By now, Draco was grasping tightly onto Blaise's shoulders.

Through all of this, neither of them noticed the soft sound of footsteps coming down from one of the dorm stairwells. Blaise returned to kissing Draco fervently, which caused another vulnerable whimper to leave him. His body arched forward again, not being able to help the need to grind up against the other boy.

"_Blaise?_" Someone asked in a whisper, their tone startled.

Instantly, as if the common sense in Draco's mind had snapped back into place, he shoved Blaise roughly off of him, which sent him falling onto the floor.

There was a groan from below Draco, but he didn't pay much attention to it. He was hoping that whomever had said Blaise's name hadn't noticed him. The couch hid him; at least it did until the person decided to walk around it. Maybe pushing Blaise off hadn't been a good idea.

"What are you doing?" The person asked again. Draco finally recognized it as being Pansy. "Who's... um... with you?"

Blaise sat up quickly, sending Draco a glare from where he was sitting on the floor. He glanced upward to look at the person behind the couch. "Uh.. hey Pansy. No one's with me."

"Then who's breathing like that?" Pansy asked skeptically. It sounded like she had an idea of who it could be, but really didn't want to think about it.

"Me?" Blaise replied sheepishly. He stood up, brushing himself off. "I was... er... doing things."

Slowly, the boy made his way back over to where Draco was lying motionlessly. He sat on the couch on his knees, enough so that he wasn't hitting Draco, and leaned over the couch with one arm so that he could look over at Pansy. The other hand covered Draco's mouth in order to keep him from making any more noise. Draco had an urge to bite at it.

"So, why are you up? Weren't you in bed?" Blaise questioned innocently.

"I was hearing things down here," Pansy said sharply, "Maybe you should keep it _down_. You think that people can't hear you?"

"Oh... sorry." Blaise grinned.

All of a sudden, Pansy stepped forward to where Blaise was sitting. His expression, for a moment, turned to one of panic, before he was pushed backward again. He tumbled back onto the floor. "Ow, what the hell, Pansy?" Draco looked quickly down at him.

Then the next thing Draco saw was Pansy leaning over the couch. She looked down at him with an angry expression before looking back at Blaise. "I knew it!" She looked to Draco again. He felt deeply humiliated, not to mention regretting what he allowed Blaise to do. "Why!" She asked loudly.

"Why what?" Blaise piped up, now pushing himself up from the ground again. He looked quite annoyed at having been pushed onto the floor for the second time.

"Why would you do... this?" She frowned.

Blaise shrugged. Draco fought back a sigh and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He hid his head in his hands, wishing that he could just tell Pansy what was really going on. He'd let them solve this; he honestly didn't want to have anything to do with it, even though he _was_ in the middle of it.

"We wanted to?" Blaise finally suggested.

"You know that Draco doesn't want this, Blaise! What's your problem!" Pansy looked ready to cry, and it made Draco glance quickly up at her. She really did look angry.

"I don't have problems! He let me!"

"That's because you forced him to not have any other choice!"

"That's not true! Tell her, Draco! I did no such thing!"

Draco stayed silent until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked over at Blaise. He had a feeling that if he said Blaise _did_ do such a thing, it wouldn't go well on his part. He bit his lip, then nodded at Pansy. "I didn't mind."

Pansy watched him intently, until Draco saw her eyes welling up. As if she couldn't express how upset she was, she stomped her foot on the ground. "Fine. But this just isn't right! I know it isn't!" She turned around and rushed back into her room before she could say anything else; it looked as though she'd wanted to.

When she was gone, Blaise gave a relieved sigh. "That was close."

When Draco didn't respond, Blaise shook one of his shoulders. "You okay?"

"I have to go to sleep now..." Draco said quietly. He stood up slowly, his head down.

"Oh, okay. Well I guess we can do that." Blaise looked somewhat disappointed, but Draco was thankful that the boy didn't try anything else on their way up to their dorm.

He didn't sleep at all well that night.


	16. Just Drowsy

Weeks were passing by like days as things with Draco progressed. Blaise was attached to him like there were no other people in existence. Pansy had grown oddly apart from them and instead spent her time with the other Slytherin girls. Harry had stayed away from him as well; the looks that he occasionally sent Draco in the halls were inquiring as to what had happened. Surprisingly, Draco found a strong need to go and speak to the boy. It could never happen, however, because of Blaise always being there.

Draco knew he was falling apart. Nothing much mattered to him anymore. He allowed himself to undergo whatever Blaise fancied doing at the times he wanted it; he'd even gotten deep enough into it that he returned the affection. He knew he felt nothing for the boy; pleasure was becoming his only source of comfort and distraction.

Though there was one thing he noticed on a day he'd been paying closer attention to the students around him. While sitting at the Slytherin table, with Blaise sitting right beside him, he became aware of the interested glances being sent his way. He noticed the pointing and whispering and giggling coming from all directions. He noticed... that most of them were talking and whispering about _him_ . That they thought Blaise and himself were a couple. The entire school thought he was a bloody _queer_.

Humiliation seemed to wash over him at that moment. He suddenly felt himself go cold, his stomach twisting about uneasily. He grabbed for his silverware, his hands shaking.

"Hey, are you alright?" Blaise asked, turning to him. He watched as Draco attempted a bite of food. Draco shook his head, swallowing the bite as if he were trying to get a rock down his throat.

"What's the matter?" Blaise leaned over to kiss lightly at Draco's neck. It was what he did to try and calm the pale Slytherin down. It helped.

Draco, despite having just been ashamed of knowing people thought him a queer, tilted his head in the opposite direction of Blaise's lips to allow him more access. His mind was wiped clean of his worries and sudden sickness, and he instead savored the familiar source of comfort. He made a quiet, humming sound low in his throat.

"Get a fucking room," someone snapped from across the table. Draco didn't hear them.

"Shut your bloody hole!" Blaise retorted loudly, after pulling away from Draco. As soon as that was said, Draco pulled the boy close to hurriedly lock their lips. Blaise let out a quiet moan, not seeming to mind the sudden attention from everyone else either.

Without really knowing it, Draco began to feel much more at ease.

That was how things were now. Except today Blaise wasn't with him. Draco wanted to go to the first Hogsmeade trip of the year; Blaise didn't, and he amazingly allowed Draco to part from him.

Draco was walking through the small town with his heavy Slytherin cloak and scarf wrapped around him. It was one of the chilly days in October; snow was covering the ground in thick layers. Draco was alone, and he felt depressed rather than overjoyed that he was.

_"Hey... look! It's that boy!" _

_"Yeah... the one who...oh..." _

_"Uh-huh... I heard he kisses other boys..."_

Draco's eyes moved toward the place the whispers were coming from. It looked like a group of little second years, but he knew students that young weren't allowed in Hogsmeade. They must've been bloody Hufflepuffs; they probably didn't know what the hell they were talking about. Eyes narrowed at them, which caused them to jump and hurry off.

Before he knew where he had been heading, Draco ended up at the entrance of the Three Broomsticks. It smelled of butterbeer, and he knew all too well that it would be best if he just left. The place was bound to be crowded with gossiping students, and he really didn't want any of that. But then again... butterbeer did sound nice. He was freezing and browsing around the shops alone wasn't appealing to him.

So, without giving himself much time to decide, he pushed the door open and made his way inside the large pub with a small flurry of snowflakes. The sounds of dozens of chattering visitors greeted his ears. The smell of drinks and various other goods wafted from every direction. He made his way over to the bar and ordered himself two butterbeers, not bothering to scan the room for people he knew.

He'd completely forgotten the other reason as to why it would've been best to stay away from here. The effects of drinking more than two mugs of butterbeer had the same effect as Firewhiskey would on him. Past experiences verified that, but he really couldn't help it.

An hour went by without his notice; he'd been watching the people in the room talk and get up to go join their other friends. He watched as they got up to leave, sometimes laughing, and also when people came inside, looking like they'd been freezing outside. All the while, he took swallows of his butterbeer, and was now on his fourth mug.

He wasn't thinking of much, just enjoying the taste of each swallow he took. The room slowly began to grow blurry around him. Blaise wasn't even on his mind anymore, let alone the small problem of being known as the first male in a gay relationship; the first Hogwarts had ever seen.

For once, he actually felt relaxed.

After pushing the last empty mug away from him, he moved to stand. As soon as he did, the room swayed around him. He grabbed onto the edge of the bar quickly to keep himself from tipping over. The relaxed feeling stayed, however.

Slowly, after waiting a few more minutes, he started making his way across the room. He grabbed onto the edges of the tables in order to steady himself as he made his way through.

After what seemed like fifteen minutes spent just trying to walk without tripping over, he arrived at the door and swung it open. He heard a dull thudding noise.

"Ow..." Someone groaned, brining a hand up to massage their forehead.

Draco blinked once or twice to clear his vision and to get accustomed to being outside again. It was still snowing, and it was still blurry, but Draco made the person out. Harry was standing in front of him.

"Sorry, Potter," he said softly. He spoke while trying to keep the slur out of his tone. The boy looked up at him, startled.

"What're you doing here?"

"Wanted to be here."

"By yourself?"

"Yes."

Draco took a small step forward, so that he'd be further from the door and closer to Harry. He nearly lost his footing, but managed to not tip over by grabbing quickly onto the boy's shoulder.

Harry watched him cautiously. "Are you feeling okay?" He asked, eyes narrowing curiously.

"Mhm," Draco replied. "I've been thinking about you lately." He leaned forward so that he could lean more against Harry; he was feeling unusually drowsy.

"Have you?" Harry replied with the same curious stare. He instantly assumed that Draco had to be drunk. He could tell by his peculiar behavior; it was different from his usual, and his words were a lot more drawn out.

"Yeah," Draco answered.

The Slytherin propelled himself forward all of a sudden, bringing Harry into what the boy thought was a hug, but only ending up as them both stumbling and tripping back into the snow.

"Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed, surprised, "What are you doing?"

"I don't know," was the soft reply. Draco was laying on top of him, his head buried against his chest in what looked like a very comfortable position for him. "You're warm."

"Ok... please get up," Harry said uneasily.

"I don't want to," Draco retorted stubbornly.

"Please? People could see us, you know."

"I don't care."

With a slightly irritated sound, and with impatience toward the drunken boy on top of him, who was still refusing to get up, Harry grabbed a handful of snow and began shaping it into a ball above his head.

A moment later, he smashed it on top of Draco's head, coating his blonde hair with wet snow. Draco lifted his head up quickly, glaring down at Harry angrily. "Why'd you do that?"

Before the boy answered, he shoved Draco roughly off of him. The Slytherin found himself laying on his back in the snow, his eyes closed. He was getting a headache now, which was steadily growing as he thought of why Harry was treating him like this.

The Gryffindor stood up, gazing down at him. "You should get back to school."

Draco opened his eyes, his face tinged a light pink from the cold and from the snow dripping down his face. He gazed unblinkingly back up at Harry. "I don't want to."

"You shouldn't be here when you're like this."

"Like what?" Draco asked softly.

"Like..." Harry paused to think for a second or two, "Like... you've been drinking?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to. I don't feel well enough to go back to school though."

"So you're just going to stay out here?"

"You can help me."

"Why would you want _my_ help? Where's Blaise?"

Draco frowned. "I don't want help from him. I'm _glad_ he's not here." He crossed his arms over his chest, much like a child would do when refusing to do something.

"So he's at Hogwarts?" Harry questioned tentatively. He began to take a step closer to Draco, so that he could lean down and grab his arm. "I haven't seen you both apart since the last time... well, since the last time we talked."

"Yeah," Draco said shortly.

As Harry tugged Draco upward, and allowed him to position an arm around him for support, he listened for more of a response. There was none. Draco rested his head against Harry's shoulder and closed his eyes, looking as if he were falling asleep.

"Draco?" Harry asked quietly, shaking him a bit.

"What?" Draco mumbled.

"You could help me by walking a bit yourself."

Draco did, though it wasn't much of a help at all. Harry felt like he was dragging the boy across the ground. He sighed; he hadn't been planning on doing this on his trip to Hogsmeade. He'd been _planning_ to meet up with a few of the Gryffindors to buy a few things. He'd have to make up an excuse as to why he hadn't made it.

"Potter?" Draco asked suddenly. Harry was surprised that he hadn't been sleeping.

"What?"

"You called me Draco just a few minutes ago. Did you know that?"

Harry's gaze met his feet then. He actually hadn't known that; it must have just slipped out. "So?" Harry replied hesitantly.

"So, we never call eachother by our first names."

"Well, maybe we should start."

Harry couldn't believe he just said that. It seemed to make Draco happy, however, because he stepped in front of Harry all of a sudden, wrapping his free arm around the boy's waist to bring him into another one of his familiar hugs.

"What is it now?" Harry asked, exasperated.

"Nothing," Draco muttered, "I just need to ask you something."

"That really isn't nothin..." Harry started. Draco interrupted before he could finish.

"Do you think we can quit the plan with me and Blaise? I don't like it much. He won't leave me alone, and..." Draco stopped. He didn't appear as though he was going to finish. He buried his face against Harry's shoulder again. "Oh god, I just don't like him doing things to me. It isn't right... I didn't think it was going to be like this..."

Harry stood there quite still, not knowing exactly what to say or do. Comforting Draco wasn't his stronger suit, and it was awkward considering they hadn't spoken to eachother for weeks. Harry thought the boy had changed his mind about that plan, and that he was actually _with_ Blaise. They'd seemed pretty attached.

"It's okay..." Harry mumbled, patting Draco's back gently. "You don't have to if you don't want to. We can think of something else."

"Like what?" Draco sniffed, sounding like he was about to cry. "He's going to bloody kill me if I stop doing what he wants."

"Listen. I can make sure he doesn't do anything else to you."

"How?"

Harry didn't really know how. But he wanted to say something that would make the Slytherin feel better. He somehow felt guilty that things had resulted to this; to Draco going off alone, getting drunk for reasons he wasn't quite sure of, and then coming to Harry to express his problems. After all, that plan was supposed to have been helping Draco.

"I'll think of a way," Harry answered surely.

"Thank you," Draco whispered, sounding thoroughly grateful. He believed fully that Harry was going to do something for him; something to stop Blaise.

And Harry wasn't expecting any more thanks from Draco, but it was provided anyway. The boy drew back from his shoulder in a move that made Harry think he was going to back away, but he instead leaned forward. Harry's thought his first reaction would be to push the boy further away, but he instead closed his eyes as if expecting the worst. When nothing happened, he opened one eye and saw Draco smirking at him.

"I knew it," Draco said quietly, "You _do_ like boys."

Before Harry could open his mouth to retort, or to possibly think about the way Draco was throwing the same words back at him, Draco closed the distance between them.

The kiss was tentative, as if Harry couldn't decide if he wanted to return it or not. He faintly noticed how soft Draco's lips were, and how they tasted of the butterbeer the boy must've been drinking earlier. Although, before Harry could fully decide if he wanted to use his arms to push the boy away, Draco pulled away first.

His eyes were still closed. "That was nice." A small smile played across his face before he opened his eyes. Harry was standing stone still, his gaze moving below him as to not look at Draco. He knew that Draco wasn't in his right mind, and that he probably didn't know what exactly he was doing...

But that didn't explain why he just allowed that to happen. Harry bit his lip and waited until Draco was resting his head against him again, wearing that slightly sleepy expression.

Neither of them said anything on the way back to Hogwarts. Draco didn't even object to being led all the way back to the Slytherin common room. No one seemed to be around.

When Harry had made sure the boy was safely back inside, to where Draco would go up to his dorm to rest, he headed back to his own common room. A hand was brought up to cover his eyes, disbelief written on his face. "God, what's happening?" He whispered to himself, distressed.And as much as he tried, he never found an answer to that question.


	17. In the Dorm

Blaise was waiting for him as he entered the dorm. Draco shut the door before he turned around, and nearly had a heart attack when he did. Blaise was laying back on his bed, hands propped behind his head, as if he had been expecting him.

"Welcome back," Blaise drawled.

Draco kept still while gazing over at the boy. Distractedly, he licked his lips, becoming aware of a pair of eyes roaming over him, probably taking in his ruffled appearance. He had wet hair, disheveled clothes, and a flushed face.

"What have you been up to?" Blaise questioned, eyebrows rising.

"Nothing," Draco replied happily. He smiled a bit and began to make his way over.

"Nothing?" Blaise repeated doubtfully.

"Yep." Draco shed himself of his cloak and scarf before draping himself over Blaise. He grinned seductively as his face hovered over the other boy.

"I see... well it smells like you've been drinking."

"That's correct." Draco smirked. He moved against the boy in a rather suggestive way, before leaning down to press his lips over Blaise's own.

Blaise certainly responded well. He delved deeper into the kiss, his hands stretching over his head to grasp at the sides of the headboard. He pushed up against Draco, letting out a satisfied moan.

They only parted from the kiss when Draco felt it was time to breath. He smirked again, "Liking this?" He just about purred while looking down at Blaise. The boy nodded slowly, breathless.

"Good," Draco said, his tone suddenly sharper, "Because that's the last you'll ever get out of me." In one swift movement, he pushed himself upward, making sure to drive one knee in between Blaise's legs. The boy let out a loud, startled yelp as Draco clumsily climbed the remaining distance off the bed.

The pale Slytherin glared down at the boy huddled sideways on the bed as soon as he was standing. He saw that one of Blaise's hands was clutching the spot Draco had aimed for. He was moaning and cursing beneath his breath. "Damn it, Draco! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I hope that was as painful as I was hoping it to be," Draco said calmly. He backed up slowly, far enough from Blaise so that he knew he'd see the boy's next move; if he made one, that was.

In the meantime, Draco took out his wand, trying to recall a spell that could make him feel a bit better. The headache from earlier was returning, along with a slightly nauseous feeling to add onto the dizziness. But no spells came to him; his mind seemed to be crowded with other things.

Blaise had regained his composure enough to get up off the bed a minute or so later. He stood facing Draco, glaring icily at him. "You're a bastard," he shot out angrily.

"Oh, I am?" Draco replied, acting completely unruffled by the comment. He collapsed onto one of the other beds, making sure he was sitting up with a good view of Blaise.

"Yes. You have no idea what you just did."

"If this is about you going to write my father to tell him how I'm not snogging you anymore, then save it."

Blaise opened his mouth, but Draco continued talking. It seemed he had a lot more to say. "Did you even _tell_ him what you're doing to me? He doesn't even _want_ me to be gay. Or were you just going to tell him I was being too 'good' whenever I do something you don't like? That way either yourself or him can try and convert me back?"

The other boy narrowed his eyes furiously. Draco didn't pay much attention to it. He wore a haughty, uncaring expression. "You know, if _I_ were to write and say what you're doing, he'd most likely come up here and rape _you_ instead. Sound fun?"

Draco stared intently at Blaise then, with something liken to fury burning in his eyes.

Finally, Blaise seemed to be able to speak. "You're a liar! Your father asked me to take care of you! He'd never do that! I'm helping him! I'm helping us!"

"You're stupid to believe him, then."

"I know why you're going against your father, Draco." Blaise's eyes narrowed.

"Tell me," Draco replied, blankly curious.

"It's your mother. She got sick because of your father leaving, and you started thinking it was all his fault that you don't have anyone left to take care of you!"

Draco snorted, "He told you that?"

"Yes, it's given you the idea that maybe the good side is a better bloody choice!"

"That doesn't explain why you've been screwing around with me!" Draco suddenly shouted. His fists clenched at his sides, his glare boring a hole through the floor. He'd finally snapped.

"Is your taking advantage of me helping me get back onto the dark side? Do you even _know_? How are you sure that I'm not on the dark side already?"

Blaise took a step forward, but Draco quickly reacted and stood up, shoving the boy roughly away from him. The boy was caught off guard and fell onto the floor.

"Draco... I..." He started nervously.

"Just shut the hell up! Not if you're going to tell me why you've been using me as your bloody sex toy!"

"I... it's not..."

"Do you have any idea that my father _rapes_ me as punishment!" Draco exclaimed angrily.

Blaise's eyes widened. "No..."

"WELL HE DOES! And all you do is make my problems worse! I'll be on the bloody dark side if you both just _stop_! Okay, you just tell him that!" With that, Draco stormed his way past the shocked Blaise and out of the dorm, the door slamming shut behind him.

Angry tears were building up in his eyes as he stumbled through the common room. He had to pick himself up as he tripped once, falling onto his hands and knees. When he did get himself upright again, he saw Pansy and a few other girls from Slytherin standing at the entrance of the common room. They were staring at him.

"Draco... what's wrong?" Pansy asked gingerly. Her voice was shaking. Draco could tell she was worried, but he didn't want to see anyone at the moment. That was... no one except Harry.

Without answering her, he strode his way past them and out into the corridor. He was running as fast he could to where he thought the Gryffindor common room was, feeling blind to everything else around him.

"Malfoy!" Someone called loudly. Draco kept running. "Malfoy!" They repeated, louder that time.

Draco whipped around, feeling his legs give way beneath him. He heard someone running over.  
"Oh god... Malfoy. I'm sorry. I forgot that Blaise could've been in there... I wouldn't have left you..."

Harry kneeled down beside Draco, who was sitting on his knees, his hands covering his face in an attempt to keep from showing how upset he was.

"I want to stay with you," Draco choked out quietly, "Please, I can't go back there again."


	18. Can't Think To Share

Strangely, there were no questions Harry needed to ask himself before he started to lead Draco up to the Gryffindor common room. By now, the idea of Draco being alone in his own house was a horrible one.

"He didn't do anything, did he?" Harry asked, sounding as if he thought something _did_ happen. It certainly seemed like it.

"No, no he didn't," Draco responded softly. The urge to cry had stopped and he was resting against Harry with one of his arms around his shoulders. "I'm going to be in trouble though."

"What happened?"

"I told him off for what he's been doing. Then my father came into the argument..."

Harry fought back a sigh. How he'd gotten so caught up in this situation, he didn't want to think about. Though he _did_ need to think about what to do next. Draco needed someone here for him, and he needed someone right _now_.

"Okay, you'll stay with me until we can get things straightened out. I'll tell my friends to not say anything; they'll keep their promise." Harry added that reassuringly when Draco turned to nervously glance at him.

"I'm not sure what to do about you going to classes or meals or even getting dressed though. You're usually in your own common room. I suppose you could just let the Slytherins see that you'd rather be with me, so you can do those things with no worries, but..."

"My father will find out."

"... not if I let Dumbledore know. You'll be safe if I tell him people are after you. Why can't you trust him? You trust me."

Draco fell quiet, not knowing what to say about that. The only reason he disliked Dumbledore in the first place was because of his father. But he knew that telling the headmaster about this would help. He'd be safe in the castle.

"Okay," Draco gave in, "You can tell Dumbledore, but I don't want to go back to the Slytherins. I want to stay with you."

Harry glanced sideways at Draco, looking worried and a bit wary toward the boy. "You won't have to go back. I'll make sure of it."

"You're wonderful then," Draco said, sounding much more relaxed than a few moments ago. That same content smile from earlier crept onto his face.

"Um, Malfoy?" Harry spoke up as they made their way further along the next few staircases.

"Potter?" Draco replied, sounding amused. "No more first names." That last bit Harry hardly heard; he thought the boy was talking to himself.

"Ok... well, I was wondering where exactly you're planning on sleeping tonight. Is the couch in the common alright?"

"Will you be down there too?"

"No, I'll be up in my dorm, but..."

"Then I'll go up there too."

"Malfoy, there are no extra beds up there."

"Then give me yours."

"What? I can't sleep on the _floor_..."

"Fine! We'll share!" Draco exclaimed impatiently. He was wondering why the boy wasn't acting too polite, when he was the one bringing him back to his common room.

"What? No!" Harry said quickly.

Draco sent Harry a stubborn glare and saw that the boy was blushing furiously. It wiped the glare right off his face and was replaced by a sly smirk. "How about yes?"

"How about no?" Harry replied, his voice a near mutter.

"Why not?"

"It's the same bed! I'm not going to share it with you! What if, you know...?"

Draco watched him with interest as he tried to come up with an excuse. "Oh." Draco stopped walking. Out of nowhere, he pushed Harry up against the nearest wall. He wasn't at all forceful about it. He proceeded to snuggle up against the other boy. "You're just worried about people seeing us, aren't you?" He asked quietly.

Harry appeared to have swallowed his response. Draco's actions were putting him into a state of shock. Though he didn't find himself right away thinking to tell the boy to stop.

"Not worried about any other reason?" Draco whispered, this time his lips near Harry's ear. He was brushing the side of his face against Harry's own as his hands moved to grip onto the sides of Harry's shirt. One leg slid between both of the Gryffindor's when he pulled himself closer.

Harry's eyes shut tightly, his arms planted against he wall as if glued there. "Malfoy, what are you doing?" He breathed.

The Slytherin sounded slightly sleepy. "Warming up to you. Would you like to sleep with me now?"

Harry's eyes suddenly snapped open. "What?"

"Sleep with me. This doesn't feel bad at all, does it? Or at least it doesn't to me..." Draco let out a quiet breath of air, which brushed over Harry's neck. He shivered. What was Draco _talking_ about?

"I'm sorry. M-malfoy... I can't..."

"Oh, Potter," Draco said with annoyance. He quickly pulled away from him, rolling his eyes. "I meant sharing the same bed, you git. I wasn't being literal."

Harry blushed an even deeper red when Draco explained himself. He should've known; what the hell was he thinking! Draco couldn't have drunk that much. His sarcasm was coming back, after all.

Trying to ignore the fact that he'd made a complete idiot of himself, he straightened up and ran a hand through his messy raven locks. "I knew what you meant," Harry retorted defensively.

"You sure did, P-potter." Malfoy smirked. He'd tried to imitate Harry's voice.

"Oh, shut it," Harry said hurriedly. He grabbed Draco's arm and started heading he rest of the way to the Gryffindor common. Draco was grinning to himself the entire time, appearing glad to have affected Harry that way.

And Harry had to admit that when Draco had been that close and then pulled away, he found himself missing the warmth. He missed the way he'd felt so good, knowing that Draco...

_Oh god, what am I thinking? This is Malfoy. MALFOY. A boy, which is even more..._

"You know, this is supposed to be a serious matter," Harry said suddenly. They were nearing the portrait of the Fat Lady. "You're acting quite calm right now."

"I feel better now that I'm with you," Draco replied simply. He was still smirking.

Harry gave him a skeptical glance. "All of a sudden?"

"Obviously," Draco said, rolling his eyes again. "Wouldn't you try thinking about something else if you were me right now?" His smile faded a bit, waiting for an answer from Harry.

The boy stared at Draco a few moments, just thinking of how different the boy was acting even after all this had happened to him. Then he responded. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

They both stopped at the portrait at that moment. Harry gave the Fat Lady the password before they both made their way inside.


	19. Visitor

"What's _he_ doing here?"

As soon as they'd stepped into the common room, Ron's voice sounded from where the couch was situated in front of the fireplace. He was standing up, staring at Malfoy with narrowed eyes; his attention had obviously been taken away from his homework.

Draco scowled. "None of your fuc..."

"He's in need of a bit of help at the moment!" Harry interrupted quickly. He shot Draco a warning look.

"Help? Why? No one cares!" Ron exclaimed. He seemed to have decided to ignore Draco completely then. He'd walked up to Harry, gesturing with his hands to express the things he couldn't quite say.

"I said I would help him," Harry said, shrugging.

"What? Have you gone mad!" Ron motioned toward Draco, "He's _Malfoy_. So what if he needs help? He always has!"

"Excuse me, Weas..." Draco objected angrily.

"Just trust me on this!" Harry responded loudly, blocking out Draco's comment before it was finished. He was trying his best to prevent an argument from breaking out. Both Draco and Ron were back to glaring eachother down. Harry only wished that everything could go smoothly for once, even if he knew his best friend wasn't likely to accept his newfound kindness.

"So he's staying here then?" Ron asked through gritted teeth.

"Yes, until things are sorted out," Harry replied, eying his friend cautiously. "Can you do me a favor and keep this between us and no one else outside of this house?"

There was a long moment of silence, in which Harry thought Ron would explode, but the boy loosened his clenched fists and went back over to the couch. "Fine, but I don't see how keeping him here will do anything. He could go stay with bloody Snape or something." He fell back onto the cushions and roughly grabbed his quill to continue his essay.

As Harry turned back to Draco, he heard Ron mutter something quietly from where he was sitting. _I knew he shouldn't have gotten interested in his problems in the first place..."_

Harry ignored it. Instead he steered a very annoyed Draco up to his dorm.

"Well that was nice!" Draco exclaimed sarcastically, once they were in the dorm and the door was closed behind them.

"Like you were?" Harry questioned.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yes, but you _were_ going to say something."

Draco glared. "I hate him, that's why. He acted like I've gone and contaminated Gryffindor by my very presence!"

"You haven't always been our friend, Malfoy. I'm not sure if you really are now."

"Oh, right. I've insulted all of you for 'oh-so-long' and its effect was deep, I'm sure."

Harry shook his head, making his way over to his trunk to drape his cloak over it. He sat down on the edge of his bed, rubbing at his forehead tiredly. "Ok, so have you decided on if you're going to meals or not? It's going to be dinner soon."

"No, I don't want to go. Not yet, at least." Draco seemed to calm down as he followed Harry over to the bed and sat down beside him. "Can you bring me back something?"

"I guess," Harry said.

"Thank you." Draco grinned. "And what about sleeping arrangements? Have you decided if you're going to sleep in your bed or not?"

"I don't know," Harry replied, "I don't think so, actually."

"You don't think what?"

"That I will sleep in my bed. I can sleep with Ron, since the floor is too hard and he has no intentions of doing anything to me." Harry's face turned red again, and he looked to the side to prevent Draco from noticing. When they seemed to fall silent for a minute or two, Harry spoke up again. "Well, I better be off to dinner now."

Harry began to stand up, but Draco lifted a hand and tugged him back down before he was halfway done. "No, wait..." The Slytherin said quietly; his arms quickly wrapped around Harry's waist. "I want you to stay with me tonight. I'll feel awkward."

Harry instantly tried pushing Draco's hands off, but he was holding onto him rather tightly. Draco's face was pressed against Harry's front; he could feel the boy's soft breathing.

"_I'll_ feel more awkward being near you. And besides, Ron's bed is right next to mine. Nothing is going to happen to you," Harry tried to sound reassuring.

"I don't care. I don't see why you'd share with Weasley rather than me."

"There are plenty of reasons."

"Name them," Draco demanded. He lifted his head to look up at Harry, his eyes narrowed. Harry glanced back at him nervously, still idly tugging at Draco's fingers to get them to unhook from around him.

"Well... for one, _you'll_ be in my bed. Two, he's my friend, and he'll understand why I can't sleep in my bed." As Harry spoke, he noticed Draco rest his head against him again, and that he was lifting his legs up onto the bed. "Hey, wha-" He quipped hurriedly.

"Continue!" Draco said sharply. Harry did, becoming increasingly aware that this wasn't a position he wanted to be caught in with Malfoy if someone decided to walk in.

"Three... people will think something is going on between us, because it isn't right to share beds."

"Yeah, but you'd share one with Weasley."

"That's different."

"Sure it is."

"OK, four... you're..." Harry's words drifted off as Draco continued what he had been doing. He scooted up so that his legs were beneath him. He began to crawl his way onto Harry's lap. "... this is exactly why!" Harry shouted, alarmed.

Harry's arms pushed against Draco's chest so abruptly that the boy fell backward and took him along as well. The boy's arms didn't seem to have let go from around his waist, and so as Draco fell flat on his back onto the floor, Harry fell right on top of him. Draco let out a groan.

"Bloody hell, Potter..." Draco had his eyes shut tightly as if his head had hit the floor. Yet still his arms stayed. Harry was trying to tug himself away from the Slytherin, but it wasn't working too well.

"Ok, can you let _go_ of me now?" Harry said, exasperated. Being held up against Draco like he was wasn't serving him well at all. He could feel that warm feeling returning, and in a very different place than before. His face started heating up, and as Draco's low moans caused by his aching head continued, so did Harry's wanting to escape. "_Please_," Harry begged.

Draco finally let go and lifted one of his arms to rub at the back of his head. "You didn't have to push me," he complained. Harry was making his way frantically to stand, not bothering to assist Draco in getting up himself. He hadn't even heard the boy's complaint; he was too busy forcing himself to think of other things.

After a bit, Draco noticed Harry wasn't paying attention to him. He propped himself up on his elbows, staring over that boy, who was now pacing in front of his bed. "What's wrong with you?" Draco questioned in keen interest.

"Nothing," Harry snapped back quickly.

"Oh?" Draco replied, sounding doubtful. A smirk slowly began to spread across his face. "You know, it's not _bad_ if you were liking..."

"I wasn't liking anything!" Harry countered back. He turned to glare at Draco. "You were climbing all over me. I can't help you if you keep on doing this, you know!"

Draco didn't seem to care very much about his behavior. "_Please_," he mimicked. "That was a little desperate, don't you think? You were the one that pushed me."

"Oh god," Harry muttered, putting a hand over his face. "Just shut up. I'm going to dinner, and I'll be back soon. If the others come back from Hogsmeade and come in here, just... well... I'll have Ron tell them if he's still going to be down in the common."

Harry left before Draco could get another word in.

Draco stared amusedly at the door for a few more minutes, picturing Harry's reaction to the situation repeatedly in his mind. He lifted himself up from the floor soon after, making himself comfortable on the Gryffindor's bed. He had to admit that he felt a little uneasy sitting alone in the dorm that belonged to four boys excluding Harry, and no one was here to watch him to see if he was still safe. He closed his eyes, turning to lay on his side to see if he could sleep it off.

Silence seemed to last for over twenty minutes, and then he heard loud talking coming from down in the common room. A few seconds later, he started to hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and the talking was growing increasingly louder.

Draco froze, hoping that nothing was going the happen. Weasley had to have told whomever this was that he was up here, and that Harry was only off at dinner and that he'd be back soon. He didn't want to get attacked by a group of unsuspecting Gryffindors. Probably disruptive ones, it sounded like.

He turned onto his other side just as the door opened, so that his back was facing them. Surprisingly, the door opened quietly. The voices stopped, and he didn't dare to move.

"Wow, he really is up here," one of them said in a whisper.

"Great, just what we need. Bloody Malfoy in our tower. I wonder what drove Harry to actually help this git. What'd he ever do to help us?"

"SHH! He could be awake, for all we know!"

Draco heard shuffling, and the sounds of trunks being opened and things being put inside. He shut his eyes when he heard one moving near him, so that he could pretend to be asleep if they happened to check.

"Oh, he's sleeping," one said. It was the same boy who had declared him a git. He had an Irish accent. Draco supposed it was that Finnegan boy.

"Let him. I'm sure Harry would flip out if we did something to disrupt him," another mumbled. When Draco heard Finnegan move away, he let one eye open just barely so that he was able to peek at them. He glimpsed at the others, who looked to be the Longbottom and Thomas boy. There was more shuffling and he shut his eyes again.

"What do you suppose we could do to him if we wanted?" Seamus asked.

"How about turning his hair another color?" Dean suggested.

"Nah, too boring."

"We should just beat him up," Neville said softly. He sounded very serious.

The other two laughed. "Yeah, but that wouldn't work when he got to waking up."

There was more shuffling and then suddenly the sound of a door opening and slamming shut sounded around the room. Draco jumped, but didn't make another move in hope that they didn't realize he was awake. They thankfully didn't.

"I am really irritated with Harry right now!" They newcomer shouted. Draco didn't have to guess twice to know that it was Weasley. The boy made his way to the bed beside Harry's to throw his rolled up piece of parchment and quill on the bed. "Bringing _him_ here and expecting us to be okay with it!"

"Ron, calm yourself," Seamus said cautiously. "You could wake him."

"I could bloody tear him apart right now!"

"Who, Harry or Malfoy?"

"Malfoy! But Harry, telling me to keep this hushed up! Do you know he'll be _sleeping_ in here tonight? I wonder if Dumbledore knows about this!"

"I don't think you should tell the headmaster if Harry's hasn't yet," Neville added helpfully.

"That's what Hermione said!" Ron said furiously. There was a light 'thump' sound of someone sitting down on their bed.

"Well, Hermione tends to be right about things," Seamus indicated.

"Not about this! She says to trust Harry about this decision. She didn't even seem mad about it. I don't understand."

"I don't think we're the people you should be talking to, mate," Dean chipped in.

They all stopped talking, though there was an angry sound coming from where Ron was sitting. Finally, after all the stirring and putting away of things had ended, they decided to go to dinner.

"Alright, let's go. We can give this reptile a rest while we go and get some food," Seamus said in an optimistic tone. There were consents and eventually Draco heard all of them leave the room. Once they did, he opened his eyes and turned to lay on his back. A heavy sigh was let loose.

He definitely hated the lot of them.


	20. Changing

All the Gryffindors came back at the same time to find Draco asleep on one of the beds. He was laying on his stomach, one of his arms hanging off the side. He'd been pacing around for minutes on end, waiting for Harry to return. It was a hard shove to his side that woke him up.

"Oh, god! Get him off, Harry!" Ron yelled. He'd been the one to shove Draco, and the boy nearly fell off the edge of the bed. His hand pressed against the floor to prevent himself from falling off the entire way.

"Stop it, Weasley!" Draco said angrily, "Are you trying to kill me!"

"Yes! Get off of my bed!"

A moment later, Draco felt someone grab the arm he'd been using to keep himself up. He was pulled the rest of the way off the bed, then jerked up into a standing position before he hit the floor. Draco stumbled sideways into Harry.

He noticed that all the boys from earlier were back, and that they were standing by what must've been their own beds. Harry took a step away from him, so they were no longer touching. Ron was glaring daggers at him.

"Why were you on Ron's bed?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I fell asleep on it," Draco replied darkly. He was returning the redhead's glare.

"Try aiming for mine next time."

"He was asleep on your bed when we came here before dinner," Seamus said, looking over at Harry.

"Maybe he wasn't really asleep," Neville said.

"Yeah, he was probably faking it. I don't expect him to fall asleep in here too quickly."

"You can stop talking like I'm not here," Draco muttered. With his gaze turned toward the floor, he made his way back over to Harry's bed and glumly sat down on it.

"What are you even doing in here?" Seamus inquired. "Because there's a couch downstairs."

"I prefer to be up here," Draco replied quietly. He didn't bother looking up.

"Why?" Seamus persisted.

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Don't you ever mind you own business?" Draco snapped. He glared at Seamus this time.

"Hey!" Dean started.

"Just stop!" Harry warned. He didn't want any fights. He was surprised everyone had taken things rather easily to begin with, and having it get worse wasn't something that would help.

Everyone fell quiet and Ron continued glaring at Draco as he brushed off the top of his bed. He made it appear as though it were a disgusting task. Draco scowled at him. "I didn't do anything to your blankets."

"How do I know?" Ron muttered irritably.

"Oh, you're right. I was wanking off. Though I don't think you'll get it clean that way." Draco leaned back on his hands as he continued watching the boy, managing to keep a serious expression. Ron had frowned in repulsion and jumped away from his bed as soon as that was said. The others snorted with laughter.

"He was kidding, Ron," Harry said wearily.

Ron had turned red from the tips of his ears. He turned to his trunk so that he was able to ignore Draco. Eventually, they all did. And once all of them had their pajamas collected in their arms, they rushed all at once toward the bathroom door. Harry watched from the side.

"Hey, I was here first!"

"No, I was!"

"No! Ouch, that was my"

"Get away!"

"Stop pushing!"

They were all crowded in the doorframe, trying to get in at the same time. Draco watched them as if they were crazy, and Harry was staring at them oddly.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked them slowly. "Why don't you take turns? Or change in here, if you want?"

"What?" Seamus said loudly. He was in the back of the group, and as he turned around to stare wide-eyed at Harry, Dean rushed inside and closed the door.

"I said you can take turns or change in here," Harry repeated calmly.

Draco glanced at Harry with raised eyebrows. He could take a guess at why they were so worried about changing all of a sudden, and he was surprised Harry was oblivious to it. It was because of him. They didn't want _Malfoy_ to see them. After all, word around the school was that he was gay.

"With Malfoy in here?" Seamus asked worriedly.

"Oh," Harry said quickly. He seemed to have gotten it then, and he sent a nervous glance Draco's way. "Well, I don't know."

Draco smirked. He wasn't sure why. Normally, knowing that Harry's entire dorm thought he was gay would piss him off. Maybe it was for the mere fact of knowing someone else in here might be too. After all, Harry _had_ allowed that kiss.

"I won't look," Draco said, sounding amused.

"You think that I believe you?" Seamus accused.

"How would you know if I'm lying or not?"

"You lie all the time."

"Trust me, I'm not interested," Draco muttered.

Seamus merely shook his head and made his way back over to his bed. The others did the same, looking furious at Dean for racing into the bathroom before them.

Minutes went by in silence, and once Dean left the bathroom, Seamus raced inside for his turn. All of them did the same, until Draco was the only one left wearing no pajamas. Even Harry had taken a turn, which had made the Slytherin feel bad for a reason he didn't dwell on for too long on.

Everyone watched Draco as if expecting him to get up and go change too. When that didn't happen, they began climbing into their beds, ready to turn in for the night. Ron decided to speak, however.

"Do you even have your clothes, Malfoy?" Ron asked, his tone as unfriendly as possible.

"No, want me to borrow yours?" Draco retorted darkly.

Ron glared at him again, then climbed into his bed, pulling his covers roughly over his head.

"You can borrow mine," Harry said nonchalantly. He was busying himself by laying out a blanket across the floor. Draco turned around on the bed to watch him.

"You're not sleeping on your bed?"

"No."

"What about Weasley's?"

"No, I don't think he's in the mood right now," Harry mumbled quietly.

Draco sat there for a few more moments before standing up. He began pulling his shirt over his head so that he could change into the pajamas. He didn't act bothered by it at all, and he really wasn't, as long as Harry was the only one awake.

"You really are gay, aren't you Malfoy?" Seamus's voice sounded from behind him. Draco whipped around and quickly covered himself with his shirt. It didn't do much to hide anything. The boy was laying on his bed, blinking curiously over at him.

"No, I'm not!" Draco bit back."Then why were you kissing Blaise in the Great Hall?" He asked.

Draco instantly felt his cheeks burn red. Anger bubbled up inside him. "I wasn't."

Seamus snorted. "How could it _not_ have been you? You're noticeable."

"You notice me?" Draco questioned harshly, trying that in his defense.

"Everyone does. You're a bloody git, and it isn't hard to miss you making out with another guy. When did you find this out?"

"Why are you so interested?"

Seamus shrugged one shoulder. "Just trying to find out if the rumors are true."

"Go to sleep!" Draco snapped. He turned back around, ready to ignore the boy if he decided to ask any more questions. The mere mention of Blaise had sent his head reeling; he didn't want to think about that bastard.

Without even bothering to change the rest of the way out of his clothes and into the pajamas Harry gave him, he crawled beneath the blankets on his bed. The pillow was used to cover his head. He could hear the Gryffindor on the floor beside him, trying to get comfortable.

A part of Draco felt sorry that he made the boy sleep on the floor, but he really wasn't used to that emotion enough to think much of it. He forced himself to close his eyes and think about other things; eventually, he fell asleep.

* * *

Draco woke up to loud snores in the middle of the night. And he noticed that he'd managed to get tangled up in his blankets, the pillow back beneath his head.

He glanced over to look for the source of the snores, and wasn't surprised to see that it was coming from Weasley's bed. Draco groaned, turning over the opposite way.

Then he ended up turning over again, and again... until he became frustrated enough to toss the blankets off of himself. Even with his eyes closed, it didn't work; he couldn't get back to sleep. He was cursing Weasley. How the hell were all the others sleeping through his racket?

He lay there for a few more minutes, deciding on what to do. He didn't want to wake up with bags under his eyes. Classes were tomorrow, and he didn't need people thinking that he'd been wandering around the castle the entire night because he was too afraid to go back to the common room. He'd rather them think he fell asleep in the library again.

Without a second thought, he quietly moved off of the bed, walking silently over to where Harry was sleeping. He was laying on his back, and Draco noticed that he was still wearing his glasses. The blanket was covering him halfway.

He kneeled down beside the boy, lightly shaking his shoulder. "Potter," he whispered. "Potter, wake up."

The boy didn't wake. Instead, he let out an incoherent grunt and hit Draco's hand away. The Slytherin narrowed his eyes. His whispers became louder, and he leaned far enough down to speak into his ear. "Wake up! I can't sleep!"

Again, it didn't work. The boy turned onto his side, facing away from Draco. Slightly annoyed, and knowing that he wasn't going to get anywhere by whispering, Draco crawled quietly around the boy, so that he was facing him again. He scanned over the other sleeping members in the room before he stared back down at Harry.

"Potter, if you don't wake up, I get to do whatever I want to you," he threatened. The Gryffindor still didn't wake up, which really wasn't a shocker.

But it did mean that he could do whatever he wanted.

So, not pestering the boy any further, he moved closer to the boy, laying down on his side. He pulled the blanket that was covering Harry slightly onto himself so that he wouldn't freeze to death. He didn't feel quite right doing anything further, since the boy was only sleeping and it didn't seem right. He ended up keeping his hands to himself, no matter how tempting.

Sooner or later, he fell asleep again.


	21. It Continues

There was something that woke Harry up quite suddenly. He knew it was morning, but didn't feel like it at all. Something felt... different.

No one was up and about, rousing up the rest of them for breakfast. There were no tired complaints floating from Neville's bed. There was no late snoring come from Ron. It was silent, and it was the silence that made Harry stir from sleep and open his eyes.

At once, he spotted Ron, Seamus, Neville, and Dean staring at him from over by his bed. Seamus had on the look he always wore when he knew he was right; he was holding onto the bedpost as he gawked. Dean and Neville looked lost and not knowing what to think, and Ron... he looked shocked. His mouth was open and he appeared as though he wanted to say something but couldn't, for the sake of holding in the dinner from last night.

Harry blinked, staring back at them as if expecting them to tell him something was on his face. He started to stretch his arms over his head, "What's wro..." That's when he noticed.

They were standing by his _empty_ bed. And he could feel the slow and steady fall of breathing against his side.

Harry tilted his head to the right to glance at whatever was beside him, dreading somewhat to see who it was. And he'd only moved his head a little bit before he was met with Draco's. His eyes were closed and he was sleeping peacefully. Draco's arm was draped across his middle; the boy's chest was pressed up against him as if he'd taking a liking to holding him while he slept. How had he _not_ noticed this?

"Harry, what the _hell_ is going on?" Ron finally asked. His face was turning an angry red again; his expression was hoping that this was all a misunderstanding or something of the sort.

Harry began to slowly move away from the other boy. The Slytherin remained sleeping beside him, even when a very cautious Harry was pushing his arm off his waist.

"I... um..." Harry started to mutter, sounding remarkably uneasy. The mere thought of knowing Draco might've been sleeping beside him the entire night made him swallow heavily. He closed his eyes. "I... don't know how he got here. He was in my bed... I swear."

"Looks like he wanted to try and see what sleeping with the famous Harry Potter was like," Seamus commented teasingly, seeming to come out of his state of shock to smirk at him.

Harry sent an anxious look Seamus' way, trying to let him know that it wasn't good to joke right now. He was continuing to move away at a pace that was making Ron even more agitated.

Before Harry or any of the others could think to stop him, Ron stamped over to the sleeping Malfoy and flung his arm the rest of the way off of Harry. "Wake up, you bloody pervert! You sick, demented, evil little gi..."

"Ron!" Harry said loudly, moving backward quickly. "It's okay. I'm sure he"

"No, he's trying to bloody take advantage or you or kill you in your sleep!" Ron said as he turned to Harry, sounding slightly hysterical.

By then, Draco had risen out of his slumber and was glancing tiredly around. "Hey, what's goi..."

"You!" Ron yelled. "You slimy git!"

Ron rushed forward before Draco could protest and jerked the surprised Slytherin up by an arm. He shoved him roughly onto the bed, causing the others to jump back, their attention definitely peaked.

As Harry struggled to stand before anything happened, Draco curled up and covered his head with his arms. It looked as though Ron was going to hit him, and since he was that startled out of sleeping, it left him with none of his calm or cool composure. "I didn't do anything!" Draco said loudly, his voice muffled because of his face being hidden.

Ron glared furiously down at him. "You violated Harry, you bastard. What do you think you're doing!"

"I didn't touch him, Weasley! I swear that I didn't do anything!" Draco exclaimed, sounding afraid. "I just couldn't sleep!"

"So you decided to go join Harry!" Ron demanded.

"Ron! Please!" Harry said loudly, pushing himself between Draco, who was still cowering on the bed, and Ron, who was still hovering over the boy.

"But..." Ron started heatedly.

"He really didn't mean anything by it, I'm sure!" Harry said assumingly. Draco hesitantly drew his arms away as Harry started talking.

"Harry, are you bloody kidding me?" Ron asked disbelievingly.

"You know that the only reason he's here is because he needs help, Ron! And you're not doing anything to help out!" Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, trying to get it across to his best friend that he wasn't going to take any more of this.

"Fine! I won't try and help _you_ ever again! You know that Malfoy wouldn't just do that with no reason behind it!" Ron stood there with hands clenched tightly at his sides, his breathing shallow. When Harry didn't respond, but kept his narrowed gaze on him, he turned around and slammed his way out of the common room.

"I don't think that went well," Neville mumbled.

The three that had been standing as an audience started moving away to go change into their robes for classes. Harry stood there quietly, not knowing what to say or think about what just happened. He hadn't expected Ron to get that angry at him.

Though he hadn't expected Draco to be beside him when he woke up either.

He turned around to look at the boy. Draco was still sitting on the bed with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. He knew that he did something wrong. "I'm sorry," Draco muttered softly.

"Why couldn't you have stayed on my bed? You were fighting me for it and then you suddenly want the floor?"

"No, I just couldn't sleep and you wouldn't wake up..."

"Why does being with me _help_ that?" Harry asked desperately, looking at Draco for an answer. He was distressed that he was losing a friend's support over this. The Slytherin stayed quiet. "Please, tell me! I don't get why it is that you like being so close to me! I don't get why you have to be touching me all the time!"

"I just..."

"Because we _are_ boys, you know that, and I'm not like you! And you're not supposed to be like this with me because we've been enemies!" Harry began pacing about in front of Draco, forgetting the fact that the others were close by. "_Were_ enemies, I mean! I don't know!"

"It just makes me feel better, alright!" Draco suddenly shouted. "I don't know why I like you! I'm just more comfortable around you! I feel _safe_!" He pushed himself off of the bed and stood staring intently at Harry. He felt unsure on what he'd just said, or why he'd said it. Harry appeared a bit startled.

Neville, Seamus, and Dean, who had all heard the outburst, finished changing quickly and rushed out of the room with a few quiet goodbyes. Harry turned his gaze to watch them as they left.

"We should get going too," Harry said, his voice barely audible.

Draco stared at him, looking hurt. Maybe he'd been expecting a response, or maybe it was just that, hence it was breaking him down to this. He shouldn't have been so cowardly when confronted by Weasley. He shouldn't have gone down to sleep beside Harry to begin with... this entire thing was a bad idea.

"Okay," he replied softly. He began to slowly walk around the Gryffindor, over to where the shirt from yesterday was lying on the floor. He pulled it over his head, and then waited until Harry was ready to go before he followed him out.

* * *

"Where did you go yesterday?" Blaise snapped. Draco had joined them at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall for breakfast. He'd walked in a few minutes after Harry in order to keep what they were doing a secret for a while.

"I was in the library again," Draco said quietly. He tried not to grimace.

"I looked in the library."

"You didn't look hard enough."

Blaise glared at him while viciously buttering a piece of toast. Draco didn't notice, but he could tell that the boy was mad. He supposed the surprise he'd given him yesterday gave him a lot of time to think of how to respond to the situation. More hostility seemed to be his conclusion.

"I just wanted to let you know," Blaise said through gritted teeth, "That I wrote to your father and told him what happened."

Draco stayed quiet. His eyes remained locked on the bowls and plates of food as he served himself some eggs and sausage. A horrible sinking feeling started in his stomach.

"I don't think he was too mad about you being with me though. He said to do whatever I needed to keep you with us." Blaise continued as if it were an everyday topic. Draco looked across the table to see that Pansy was watching him distractedly. He frowned.

"And so... I really can't stop what I'm doing. Your father can't either. It's what you have to do, Draco. Just..."

"SHUT UP, ZABINI!" Draco shouted. He glared icily at the boy before standing up, which caused the bench to slide away from the table. He grabbed his plate and walked away, noting that the boy looked surprised once again. Though it was quickly replaced by a scowl when he started stabbing his food again.

Draco caught Harry's eye from across the hall. The entire table of Gryffindors had looked up when he'd screamed at Blaise, but none of them gave him the usual hateful look. They all knew what was going on, and Draco wondered how the hell it had gotten around so fast. He hoped it didn't spread any further.

"Hello, Pansy," he said in forced casualty. He took a seat across from her, ignoring the looks her friends gave him. "How are things with you?"

"They're alright," she answered uncertainly. "And for you?"

"Fine."

She bit her lip. "Really? You've been really... well, you've just been different lately."

"It's nothing. Let's not talk about it."

"Please, maybe if you do talk about it..."

"I don't _want_ to," he said sharply.

Another glance sent her way made him notice that she was looking hurt and worried, just like the evening before. He was beginning to think that telling her might help him... but then the idea that her and Blaise had been working together before came flooding back.

Pansy stayed quiet for the rest of breakfast, sometimes taking quick glances between Draco and Blaise to see the cold glances being exchanged. She knew something was wrong, and she knew that Draco wasn't going to tell her anything.

After he was done eating his small meal, he made his way out of the Great Hall before everyone else. He'd ignored his house in the time left over, not even in the mood to get into a normal conversation about classes or Quidditch. He waited outside the large double doors instead, hoping that Harry would come out before the rest of them.

Yet he never did. Blaise came out instead, and he looked furious.

"Draco, you're not supposed to draw attention like that."

Draco merely glared at him, not wanting to talk.

"So..." Blaise began, "You were lying to me."

"About what?" Draco asked darkly.

"About your father doing that to you. It was just a cry for attention, wasn't it?"

"No." Draco gritted his teeth, willing himself not to do anything stupid. If the boy was foolish enough to not have believed him then, then he wasn't worth his time. Joking about rape wasn't something that he did, and it was obvious that Blaise didn't even care.

"Yes, you were."

"No, actually, I wasn't," Draco defended coolly.

Blaise took a sudden step forward, pushing against Draco's shoulders so his back hit the wall. Draco instinctively reached out to try shoving the boy away. It worked, but the boy came back and snatched his shirt before he was able to get back into the Great Hall. "You _were_, and if you don't stop ignoring me, I'll have to force you to listen!"

"Did you even listen to me before?" Draco hissed as he whipped back around to face the other boy. "I'm not going to follow _anyone_ if you don't stop doing this. Being a bastard won't make me become one with you."

This seemed to anger Blaise more, and before Draco could pull away, he felt a hand take a fistful of his hair and pull his head roughly back. Draco let out a sharp breath of air before his hands quickly lifted to tug at Blaises' own.

"Let go," Draco said shakily.

"No," Blaise said shortly. He began pulling Draco the opposite way, to what looked like the hallway that led to the Slytherin dungeons.

"LET GO OF ME!" Draco yelled angrily. The way the boy was holding him hurt like hell, and it was slowly starting to sting, and he also wasn't able to turn his head as he was led down the hallway.

"I will when I'm bloody ready!" Blaise countered bitterly.

Then, rather than Draco trying one more time to get the boy to stop, someone else did it for him. Blaise was pushed violently aside, which caused him to let go of Draco's hair. He was then pushed onto the floor, and as Draco massaged his head tenderly, he noticed it was Harry that had been the one to stop the Slytherin.

"Potter?" Blaise said, startled. The fall hadn't bothered him nearly as much as seeing who his attacker was. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Don't _touch_ Malfoy like again," Harry threatened. He had drawn out his wand and was pointing it at Blaises' chest. "If you do, I'll curse you. I promise you that."

Blaise glanced at Draco to perhaps find out what was going on, but Draco was looking just as surprised as him. And even though it was a relief to see that Harry was helping him when he said he would, Draco had been expecting to be dragged away where he couldn't stop Blaise anymore.

"What we do is none of your business!" Blaise growled.

"Well it is now," Harry replied warningly. "Now get the hell away from him and don't think of trying that again."

Slowly, but eventually, Blaise pulled himself up from the floor, all the while staring at Harry strangely. As he passed Draco, the same look was given to him, and Draco remained silent until the boy disappeared into the Great Hall.

Once he was gone, Harry put his wand away. "Don't go off alone unless I can see you," he said lightly. His eyes were on the floor.

"Thank you," Draco said faintly.

Harry finally glanced up at him, and Draco noticed then that the boy looked wary of something. He looked wary of... him.

"Listen, Potter, I'm sorry about his morning. I won't do it again."

Harry sighed, "Don't worry about it. Ron was the only problem."

Draco fell quiet then, his planned apologies vanishing. Harry gently cleared his throat. "I'm going to go talk to Dumbledore about what's going on. I'll meet you in Potions in a few minutes, and if you run into Blaise again, run or use your wand. Though I don't think he'll be bothering you."

Before Draco could say anything, Harry headed back into the Great Hall to speak to the Headmaster.


	22. Difficulty Sleeping

Harry met him in class fifteen minutes later. He wore an expression that hid his happiness; Draco noticed it. The boy took a seat beside him. The Slytherin had chosen one near the back, much unlike the spot he normally took at the very front.

"What did Dumbledore say?" Draco asked.

"He said that he thinks what we're doing is best for now, and he'll see what he can do to help. He also switched your schedule to match mine, and requested another bed for our dorm."

"That's quite a bit," Draco commented lightly, "Was it even hard to persuade him?"

Harry gave a small smile. "I explained what was going on and it convinced him right away. He seems to understand everything that goes on."

A voice sounded from the door suddenly, and Draco and Harry both glanced over to see Ron coming in with Hermione. He was giving them a dirty look. "Oh, it looks as though our spots are _taken_. Let's go somewhere else."

"Shove off, Weasley. He didn't mean anything by this morning," Draco shot back at him.

"Don't talk to me, Malfoy," Ron threatened. He shouldered his bag and began walking to the front of the classroom. "C'mon, 'Mione."

She followed, though turned quickly around when Ron's back turned. She mouthed her apologies to Harry as she motioned helplessly toward the redhead. Harry gave a small nod in return, looking rather miserable about how his friend was acting.

As Ron and Hermione took their seats at the front, the rest of the class began filing in. The Gryffindors didn't react too surprised at seeing Draco sitting beside Harry (though some looked at his distrustfully), but the Slytherins definitely reacted.

"_What_? You're on _Potter's_ side?" Blaise exclaimed as he entered the room and spotted Draco. "So _that's_ what this morning was about?" He stared disbelievingly at him.

Even Pansy and the others stopped, looking taken aback. Pansy was watching him with confusion written all over her face. "You are?"

"None of you tried helping me," Draco said dully.

"You've never accepted my help!" Pansy cried.

"Because I know that the only thing you all care about is keeping me on the dark side! Why don't you ask Blaise _why_ I hate my father?" Draco narrowed his eyes at her. He eventually looked away, however, when the glares from his housemates were becoming too unnerving.

"I can't believe that you've turned against us," Theodore muttered on his way past. The group of Slytherins were following Blaise to his seat to ask him all about what had happened. Draco knew the boy was going to lie to them.

"Prissy little nancy boy," Millicent whispered in a taunting voice. She'd passed by with Pansy, who was gazing at him with a horribly betrayed expression.

Draco tried ignoring the jeering and insults as a few more were thrown his way, but it wasn't working. No matter how hard he glared and directed his angry frown onto he desk, he could feel his eyes beginning to burn.

"Ignore them," Harry whispered. He noticed Draco's hands clenching in his lap. "They're just trying to get a rise out of you."

Draco stayed silent until a minute or so later. "Blaise is just like me..." he said quietly, "They aren't even bringing anything up about him." Draco lifted a hand and wiped at one of his eyes, trying to do it so no one would notice.

"It's only because you're no on their side... they're just angry," Harry tried comforting him. "It's not your fault. They don't know what's happened to you."

Draco hid his head in his arms as they rested on the desk. "I didn't want this to bloody happen," he muttered miserably.

Harry lifted a hand to rest on Draco's back, but he instantly drew it back when he saw some Slytherins still watching them. He wished there was something he could do to help and calm the boy down, because he somehow thought that his words of comfort weren't enough.

"Don't worry. Things will be fixed soon, alright?" Harry tried again anyway. He heard the boy sniff and not show any sign of hearing him or not.

Snape entered the room a moment later, and it ceased the snide comments coming from the Slytherins so abruptly that it was like they'd never started. It also helped in getting Draco to look up from his arms, and instead to think of other things. Though Harry still noticed that the boy looked oddly distant during the lecture on potions.

Harry eventually began to lose his train of thought in class as well, and he started thinking back to the times Draco had looked for comfort in being close. Harry wished he had given those feelings, or at least the actions, back to the boy; he knew that it would've helped.

* * *

Classes were the same each day after that. The Slytherins insulted, teased, and threatened Draco to a point where he was beginning to call it a usual routine. The Gryffindors had gotten used to his presence in the dorm and common room; most of them steered clear of speaking to him, however. There was news that Dumbledore informed the Ministry to try harder in searching for the Death Eaters. There was an obvious difference in how close Blaise chose to get to Draco in the hallways. Everything was changing.

Although, he had to admit that life was moving fairly well for him . Despite the fact that his entire house hated him, and that everyone else felt sorry for him, he felt safer than anytime before. He wasn't worried about his father, even though he was sure that Blaise was keeping in touch with him. He was sure that his father knew all about his new alliance with Harry Potter.

And Harry... he was something else.

Draco still couldn't find himself to sleep at night. He had his own bed and the like, but it ceased to help when he woke up to the sounds of snoring again. And he knew he didn't want to cause an uproar like the last time Harry's dorm mates found him sleeping beside the boy. Ron and Harry had just made up, once Ron had decided that there was no way he'd be able to get Draco to leave.

And tonight was one of the nights where Draco found himself tossing and turning, not being able to fall back asleep. He bit his lip and glanced over at Harry's bed; the boy was sleeping quietly.

Silently, and knowing that he'd been doing a good job of keeping his hands to himself so far... he made his way over to the Gryffindor's bed. After standing there for a minute or so, he leaned over and shook Harry's shoulder. "Harry, get up." He whispered.

The boy groaned and turned the other way. This was something Draco wasn't having an easy time with; how could the school's hero be such a heavy sleeper?

"Harry!" Draco said more urgently.

This seemed to sink into the boy's brain, because Harry blinked his eyes slowly open to gaze up at Draco. He looked annoyed. "What?"

"I can't sleep."

"Well what do you want me to do?" Harry grumbled.

"I don't know. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me what to do." Draco stood up straight again, frowning down at Harry.

"What's keeping you up?" Harry asked, eyes half closing.

"Weasley."

"Oh."

There was a small moment of silence before Harry shifted around and repositioned himself on his bed. He let out a silent yawn as he pushed the covers off of himself, looking as though he was going to get up.

"Okay, fine," Harry said tiredly.

Draco gave the boy an odd look, confused. "Fine what?"

"You can sleep with me," he replied, sounding partially awake, "But only if you go to sleep quickly."

"Oh," Draco said softly. He lifted a hand to rub distractedly at the back of his neck. "I guess that'll help."

Draco stood there, suddenly feeling uneasy about having gotten up to get help from Harry. There was no doubt that he liked the boy's idea, but it had been a week or so since the last time he'd been this close to Harry. And the boy didn't _mind_?

"Hurry up!" Harry whispered hurriedly. He was staring impatiently up at the Slytherin.

Without thinking more on it, Draco climbed onto the bed, careful not to bump into the boy. He then slipped beneath the covers, resting his head on the furthest end of the pillow. "Thanks," Draco said quietly, not knowing what else to say. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all.

Harry merely turned onto his side, facing Draco, and closed his eyes again. It looked like he'd fallen straight back to sleep. The Slytherin layed there quite still, eyes still open. He could feel the boy's soft breathing near his neck, and the definite increase in warmth. It sent his head into that foggy state, where nearly everything felt different.

Three or four minutes went by, then all of a sudden he felt a pair of arms wrap around his lower waist. A head buried into the crook of his neck, and he felt the breathing against his bare skin. Draco breathing hitched, beginning to wonder if he was dreaming. However, judging by how his body was reacting, he supposed he wasn't.

"Harry? What are you doing?" He spoke shakily.

There was no response from the other boy, besides a small sleepy sound coming from low in his throat.

The boy had pulled himself flush against the Slytherin, and it caused Draco to tightly shut his eyes. "Okay... sleeping... I am going to sleep..." Draco whispered silently to himself. He knew he must've looked crazy talking to himself, but it was his only attempt to stay calm, and no one was awake anyway.

It seemed to be working, until Harry moved against him again, sending another shiver straight through Draco. His eyes opened hesitantly. He knew the boy was only doing this because... well, because he was sleeping and completely out of it. Harry didn't know that it was driving Draco up the wall, and the urge to touch the Gryffindor was overwhelming now.

His mind was agreeing with that urge, so it was soon telling him to do it. He couldn't help himself.

So, very slowly, he turned onto his side, as to not wake Harry up. One of his arms, which were caught between the embrace Harry had him in, pressed lightly against the boy's chest. He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip, as if watching would make things difficult. His hand began to move little by little down to Harry's waist.

He could feel his breathing quickening, and as his hand reached Harry's waistline, it tentatively inched beneath his shirt.

Harry let out a small humming sound against Draco's neck, causing the boy to pause in what he was doing and hold his breath. When he was sure that Harry wasn't waking, he continued to move his hand beneath his shirt, tracing his fingers gently over the boy's bare skin.

Draco moved so that his face was resting against the top of Harry's head. He took in the scent of his hair, not surprised that he found himself liking it. His hand began moving softly up and down the boy's chest, then moved around toward his back. Harry moved again; arching slightly upward.

A leg suddenly pushed forward, between both of Draco's, so that it was curled around him. Draco just about jerked away, his eyes opening quickly. But the other boy still didn't show any sign of waking. He was beginning to think that maybe the boy was dreaming. Draco swallowed heavily, aware of his rapidly growing arousal.

His hand began to pull out from beneath Harry's shirt, until he heard the boy mutter a few words, his voice sounding fairly desperate. "...don't stop... please..."

Draco froze. His head moved away from resting atop Harry's. He tried getting a glance of the boy's face, to see if he was okay... and he saw that the boy looked perfectly fine, though he wore a troubled expression.

Draco thought he'd try and help that, so instead of moving his hand out from beneath Harry's shirt, he moved it up again. He went higher, and hesitated before he brushed his fingers over the small, pink rises of skin. It leisurely turned into a small, circular movement, and caused Harry to shift restlessly against him and give a small groan of approval.

This only assisted in turning Draco on even more, and he knew that he was going to have to stop. If he didn't, he'd end up doing something he certainly didn't want to do without Harry's consent. Even if he _was_ telling himself that this was consent enough... and that the boy wasn't pulling away or responding badly.

But still, all of this just didn't feel right. It felt as though he were taking advantage of Harry. So, very reluctantly, he pulled his hand out from beneath the boy's shirt again.

"... Draco?" He heard Harry whisper with a slight whine, "Keep going..."

That had startled Draco into stopping his movements again. _Draco_? He thought the boy had woken up. Though when he glanced at the boy's face, his eyes were still closed.

Draco made no other move, but then tried scooting as far away as he could with Harry's arms wrapped around him. He felt the boy resisting; he felt Harry trying to keep him close. It was making Draco start to panic.

At that moment, Harry shifted about and turned one more time, making Draco realize that something was pressing against his leg.

"Oh god..." Draco moaned. He shut his eyes. He could feel himself growing hot.

Harry began to mutter again. "Keep going... please..." Draco felt one of Harry's arms slip off of him, and he gradually opened his eyes to see what had happened. The Gryffindor let out a low moan a second later.

Draco glimpsed downward. "Oh hell," he whispered, trying to keep back a moan of his own.

Harry's hand had traveled down to where a most apparent erection was. With a start, Draco pushed himself away from the Gryffindor, judging badly with the distance and ending up on the floor. He let out a groan, but this time out of the pain that shot up his back.

"Bloody _hell_," Draco hissed softly. It was more for the fact that he'd made something like that happen, and that he still happened to have his own... business to take care of. He _knew_ he should've gone along and resisted those bloody urges.

Just as he had fallen, a sharp breath was heard above him, followed by the sound of someone sitting straight up in their bed. "What happened?" They'd heard Draco fall on the floor; it was Harry. He sounded startled and breathless.

Draco stayed silent. When he saw that the boy wasn't laying back down, and that he'd fallen into a period of silence, he pulled himself off from the floor, trying hurriedly to cover up his lower half in the dark. It worked. And he saw Harry instantly do the same when he spotted Draco standing.

"Draco?" The boy asked, sounding anxious. "What're you doing?"

"I...er... I fell on the floor."

"Oh," Harry said shortly. "Okay... well, maybe you should try your bed again."

Draco nodded, and as the boy settled once more beneath his covers, Draco watched him until he found his eyes drifting downward again.

Before he went back to bed, he made his way carefully into the bathroom.


	23. A Little Confused

Draco realized that it was Saturday when he woke up the next morning. He had forgotten; he'd been dreading to go back to classes for another day. But he saw that everyone was still sleeping, and they usually got up before him, considering how long it took him to fall asleep.

His eyes squinted against the sunlight streaming through the window as he climbed out of bed. He stretched his arms over his head with a silent yawn, his gaze falling almost immediately onto Harry. The memory of last night came flooding back into his mind. Had that actually _happened_? It seemed unlikely, and it certainly had happened from out of nowhere.

Harry and himself hadn't spent any time close to eachother since Draco's first night in the Gryffindor Tower. Well, except for when they were sitting beside eachother in classes, but that didn't necessarily count. Draco hadn't even sought comfort by those spontaneous hugs.

So, all of a sudden, Harry offers to share his bed and he ends up nearly _molesting _the boy?

_Oh god. It wasn't molesting. He knew it was happening. He had to. He even said my name._

Draco tore his eyes away from the sleeping Gryffindor in order to get his mind off of him. Maybe he could forget all about it and hope that Harry didn't remember a thing.

Thinking that maybe a shower would help get his mind off of everything that was bothering him, he made his way into the bathroom. He'd normally been taking showers at night, when everyone went to sleep, but he'd forgotten last night. He really wished he hadn't now.

Shutting the door, he shed himself of his bedclothes and turned on the hot water. Once it felt warm enough, he stepped inside. It made him feel better rather quickly. He began washing his hair, and continued onward. Thoughts eventually drifted onto something, however. He was wondering what he was going to do today; it wasn't a good idea to go about the castle or the grounds because of the Slytherins being everywhere. He didn't need to go to the library either...

Suddenly, a clicking noise snapped him out of it. He instantly shut off the water, standing still in the shower. The door had opened, and someone was shuffling inside.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked quickly; quietly. "Someone is using the bathroom right now." There was a tired grunt as a response. Draco slid open the shower door and glanced out, knowing that hiding his lower half behind it wouldn't help much; anyone could see through the shower door. He spotted Seamus making his way over to the toilet.

"_Excuse me_," Draco said sharply. "Could you get the hell out?"

"Just a blasted minute," Seamus mumbled tiredly. "I'm only going to pee." He proceeded in walking to the toilet and undoing his bottoms.

"Pee somewhere else! I'm not wearing anything, for god sake!" Draco shouted frantically. "Don't you dare do anything!"

The boy ignored him and instead took his time relieving himself. Draco thanked whoever had made this bathroom for having the toilet sit on the opposite wall. Being scarred by seeing anything of Seamus' wasn't something he'd look forward to.

As soon as the boy hadn't answered him, he turned back around and tried to imagine the boy not being here. What the hell was his problem? Had he no respect for someone's privacy?

"Ok, you can do whatever you want now, Malfoy," Seamus said with a yawn. Draco heard him shuffle back out of the bathroom, and then the sound of the door clicking shut. The Slytherin stood there for a few more minutes, basically feeling completely violated. Though he was sure that the Irish boy didn't even look his way.

Finally, he managed to get a hold of himself and turn the water back on, finishing up his shower rather quickly. He didn't want any of the others walking in. When he was done, he wrapped a towel securely around his waist, walking back out into the dorm. He hadn't expected anyone to be awake. Well, possibly Finnigan, but he was planning to ignore him.

So it made him jump when he saw that everyone was up and about, rummaging through their trunks for a change of clothes. Seamus was the only one laying back on his bed, looking as tired as he had sounded only ten minutes ago.

"You've got to be _kidding_ me. The only sweater I've got is the one mum made me!" He heard Ron exclaim.

"I think they're nice," Harry commented lightly. He was pulling a dark green sweater over his head, not noticing that Draco had entered the room.

Draco made his way over to his own trunk. It was brought up the day Harry had talked to Dumbledore, along with most of his other stuff. He was hoping none of them noticed he was here until after he changed. His face was burning now; the thoughts of Harry once more returning... with some more images that were only helping in troubling him more.

_"...don't stop... please..."_

"Ah, Malfoy... have a good shower?"

Draco jumped around to see that Seamus had gotten up from his bed and was leaning against the bedpost, watching him. He narrowed his eyes. "I was until you bloody interrupted."

"What did you expect me to do? I wasn't going to go clear across the school to use the bathroom."

"You could've waited."

Seamus shrugged. "I didn't even look, don't worry."

"I don't _care_ about that," Draco said darkly, "You just walked in without warning."

"Oh, so you wouldn't care if I saw you starkers?"

There was a snort from somewhere else in the room, and Draco had a sneaking suspicion that it was Weasley. He gave an irritated sound and turned back around to re-open his trunk, not bothering to answer the boy's question.

A tap on his shoulder a second later caused him to whip around. "Leave me al-" He stopped. "Oh, it's you."

Harry was watching him hesitantly, his eyes lingering on the part of Draco that wasn't covered until flickering onto the floor. "I just wanted to apologize for--" Harry turned his head suddenly. Ron was watching them intently. "Ron, do you bloody mind?"

"Sorry, mate," Ron muttered. He went back to changing into his poorly made maroon sweater.

"--ok, I wanted to apologize for last night. I didn't mean to make you get out of my bed." Harry's voice had lowered to a near whisper, his cheeks turning a burning red.

"You were _awak_--"

"Yes."

"The entire time?" Draco asked weakly.

"Er... just when I was... um... touching myself? I forgot you were there, I swear!"

"But nothing before that?" Draco felt relieved. Very relieved. Though he realized that if the boy was sleeping all that time before, then...

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," he replied quickly. He distractedly leaned down to retrieve the shirt he had layed out on his bed. He pulled it over his head. Harry continued standing there, and Draco looked at him oddly once he was through. "What?"

"Nothing..." The boy began to turn around.

"Wait," Draco said hurriedly. His voice lowered again, so that none of the others were able to hear. "I have a question."

Harry nodded softly. "Sure."

"What were you _thinking_ when you started doing that? Was it a dream?" Draco watched him curiously. He leaned against the bedpost, arms crossing over his chest while he waited for an answer. Harry seemed to be having a hard time figuring one out.

"Was it? Or do you do that out of the blue?"

"I was dreaming," Harry said quietly. His face was turning a deeper red. It seemed to be reaching its utmost color.

"About what?" Draco pried.

"Someone," Harry muttered.

"Who?"

"Do I have to tell you everything? It was just some girl, alright?" Harry rubbed at the back of his neck, turning slowly around, as if unsure of where to step next. Draco noticed that the Gryffindor's eyes were never on him when he was spoken to.

He knew Harry was lying. There was no doubt that that 'someone' was him.

* * *

Draco decided to go to the library after all. All the other Gryffindors were going out onto the grounds to do whatever it was they did, and he wasn't too content on joining them. However, there was one thing good about being in the library today. Harry had decided to come with him.

He claimed it was because Blaise could come in at any time, and it was better that there was someone else around to keep a watch on him. Besides, Harry had to finish a Transfiguration essay.

"How come you haven't finished it yet?" Draco asked. They were sitting at a small table in the back of the library. Harry had a pile of books set up beside him and was looking through one of them with a frown.

"No time," Harry replied.

"You've had plenty."

Harry looked up at Draco, his gaze skeptical. "Have I?"

Draco stared back at him, before he realized what the boy meant. He'd been watching over Draco for quite a while, and homework he had never really gotten around to.

"Oh, sorry." Draco propped an elbow on the table to rest his head in his hand. He continued watching the boy as he drew his attention back to the book. He was getting bored.

Ten minutes passed before he saw Harry drop his head onto his book. Draco yawned.

"This is stupid," Harry muttered.

"You can't do it?" Draco smirked lightly, unconsciously bringing one of his hands to rest on Harry's head. "It's alright, I'm sure you'll do better next time."

Harry lifted his head, glaring at Draco. "That's not helping."

Draco stopped and brought his hand back to rest lazily on his side of the table.

"Listen, we need to talk. I think you should be honest too."

"Sure," Draco muttered, slightly surprised at the sudden change of subject.

"Ok, so why _do_ you like me?" Harry asked quickly.

"Oh, great topic," Draco said, fake enthusiasm in his tone. "I've already told you, haven't I?"

"You said you didn't know, and that I just felt safe to be around."

"Well, there you go." Draco stood up from his chair, stretching his arms over his head to feel a little more relaxed. A glance was sent around the library; it was still fairly empty. Only a few Ravenclaws sat at a table completely across the room.

"That doesn't explain anything though. I'm sure that there are a lot more people you could've gotten help from."

"You were the one who was insisting to help me."

"I only said that you should tell someone."

"So you actually don't want to help me?" Draco looked over at Harry, suddenly looking serious.

"No, I do..." Harry said quickly, "It's just the _other_ way you've been acting around me..."

"You mean me being attracted to you?"

Harry nodded slightly, turning a bit pink. Eyes went back down to his book. It seemed like he had something else to say, but was uncomfortable bringing it up.

"Well, I have no excuse for that. I just _found_ myself attracted to you."

"That doesn't make sense," Harry mumbled.

"Why not?" Draco sounded almost irritated, but he returned to sitting back down across from Harry.

"You've been..." Harry started, but the rest of the sentence faded off.

"I've been what?"

"Um... abused, I guess."

Draco continued watching the Gryffindor, expecting more. That had been stating the obvious.

"And... well... I didn't think that someone who's been abused like you have would be wanting so much attention that way and that'd you'd be worried about ever getting close to someone again, let alone thinking of kissing them and all of that. But I could be wrong, I don't know... if I am, I'm sorry," Harry ran through it all in a rush. His hand covered his face, as if afraid to see Draco's reaction.

But Draco didn't find himself reacting in any negative way. He merely sat there with an inquiring expression, trying to think over what Harry had just said. And the boy was partly right... wanting to be close to someone didn't make sense after all that he'd been through. Or maybe this was all because he _wanted_ someone to show him that they weren't just doing it for their own sick pleasure. He _did_ like Harry, and what had happened last night was only startled him a little bit...

"I guess it doesn't affect me in that way," Draco finally answered.

"Okay, just wondering," Harry said quickly. He suddenly stood up while gathering up his schoolwork and a few of the books. He was moving a bit too fast. "I think we should get going now. I won't be able to finish this."

"What's the rush?" Draco asked calmly. He stood up too, watching Harry curiously. "Can I ask you something too?"

Harry continued trying to keep his things under his arms as he mumbled a small, 'Okay.'

Draco paused for a few seconds before asking. "Why did you lie about dreaming about a girl this morning?"

A book dropped onto the floor, and both Harry and Draco jumped. The Gryffindor hurriedly bent down to pick it up. "I didn't lie," he replied distractedly, "What are you talking about?"

Draco pressed his hands against the table, leaning over so that he could watch Harry struggle with the book. The boy's hands were shaking. "I'm not a girl," Draco said offhandedly.

"Of course you're not..." Harry mumbled. He finally gathered the poor book, and he stood back up again. He looked at Draco oddly as the Slytherin stopped leaning against the table. He stood there watching Harry with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I wasn't dreaming about you," Harry said, confidence definitely non-existent in his voice.

"You said my name," Draco informed with a raise of eyebrows.

"What?" Harry asked weakly.

"You said _my_ name before you started doing that." Draco smirked some, looking amused.

Harry stood there for what felt like two minutes before he actually reacted. He knew that there was no way to get around it, and that there was a low risk that Draco was lying. Harry _knew_ what he had been dreaming about... and Draco was right.

He began to back up so that he could rest his back against the wall. He tilted his head backward so that he could close his eyes. He let out a distressed sigh, and didn't notice that Draco had made his way around the table to stand near him.

"So you were dreaming about me?" Draco questioned expectantly.

"I guess," Harry mumbled quietly.

For Draco, he felt like he couldn't have heard anything better than that. An incredibly pleasant feeling was washing over him. It was because he knew now that he didn't have to worry about liking the boy, even for reasons he didn't know of, because the boy returned the feelings for him. He wasn't going crazy... he wasn't being toyed with.

"But I can't," Harry said miserably.

"You can't what?" Draco bit his lip to keep himself from smiling.

"I can't like you."

Draco released his lip to frown then. He wished it wasn't like this. He wished he could've heard that and not have any other reasons as to why he shouldn't have, or why something like this couldn't happen.

"Why not?"

Harry sighed again, lifting his head to look at Draco. "It'll just make your problems worse. And it wouldn't work, and I can't try to make it work because then..."

There was another long pause before Harry continued. Draco watched him silently, his eyebrows furrowed.

"... because then everything would be ruined," he finally muttered.

"Ruined?" Draco spoke up quietly.

"The Slytherins... your father... and I can't do that to you. You've been through a lot."

"I don't care," Draco said hotly.

"You don't want anymore trouble, do y--"

"No, but no one needs to know!"

Harry watched him carefully. "I didn't mean for this to happen..."

"Well, it did." Draco continued standing there quite still.

"Okay, let's just forget about this for now, alright?"

Draco nodded gently. "Alright."

Slowly, Draco backed away to allow Harry to walk away from the wall and gather up the rest of his things. His gaze stayed on him the entire time, and the Gryffindor remained rather quiet.

Then, once Harry turned around and Draco supposed they were ready to leave, they both paused again. It felt like an awkward moment, though it wasn't really. They stood there, watching eachother. Waiting. "So... are we leaving?" Draco asked tentatively.

"Yeah," Harry answered, repositioning his bag onto the other arm.

At that moment, everything seemed to turn around again. Everything that wasn't likely to happen was starting to happen again, but somehow Draco knew that the both of them had been expecting it.

Harry stepped forward swiftly, closing the distance between them. He used his free hand to tug at the front of Draco's shirt, pressing his lips against the Slytherin's to bring them both into a fervent kiss. Draco's arms moved to wrap around Harry's neck, his lips parting to allow the other boy's tongue to slip inside.

Hands ran shakily down Draco's front, and when Harry's bag started slipping off of his shoulder, he shook it the rest of the way off without breaking the kiss. It hit the floor with a dull thud.

Draco could hardly contain himself. It felt so _good_ to kiss Harry, to taste him, to feel his lips and his hands all over him... _oh god_.

Abruptly, Harry pushed him up against the wall. Draco gasped and once more fell quiet when lips crashed onto his own. He felt hot hands that had moved beneath his shirt running over his skin; his own hands were clutching onto the sides of Harry's robes. His legs lifted to wrap around the other boy's waist, which caused Harry to push him closer against the wall, a low moan escaping him.

Harry's lips parted from his as they continued; they traveled along his jaw, moving down his neck. Draco tilted his head back, breathless and letting out small moans. "... Harry... oh... oh... god..." Harry was starting to suck lightly at the side of his neck.

Without thinking, Draco rolled his hips forward, trying to receive more of the heated contact. Movements became more frantic and feverish. Harry let out another moan, and Draco could feel the tiny vibrations against his neck. He arched forward again.

Lips once more connected to his own, and Draco returned it desperately, eager for the closeness and the absolute burning desire that Harry was bringing with it. These feelings were beginning to come from somewhere he had no idea existed; what was _happening_ to him?

"Draco..." Harry breathed, "We have to stop."

"I know..." Draco whispered. He placed another kiss on Harry's lips. Harry's eyes closed.

"I'm sorry..." Harry muttered softly. Draco buried his head in the crook of Harry's neck.

"You don't need to apologize," Draco said.

A minute was spent this way. They calmed their uneven breathing as they rested, their bodies pressed against eachother. Draco's legs slowly untwined themselves from around the other's boy's waist. His gaze glanced toward the floor. More of the awkward silence was shed between them.

"We should get back..." Harry informed in a muted tone.

Draco didn't say anything. He only nodded, and followed Harry out of the library after he'd gathered up his things again. Nothing was said on the way back to the Gryffindor Tower, though Draco stole one quick glance at the other boy. Draco didn't know what to think.


	24. Spreading Around

_"Did you hear? Malfoy was caught kissing Potter in the library..." _

_"Are you bloody serious!" _

_"Nah... I heard it from a group of little third year Ravenclaws. What a bunch of idiots." _

_"Ravenclaws are rather smart, actually. Might explain why they were put in that house." _

_"Okay, okay... so yeah, they claim that they say them kissing. Rather... intimately, at that." _

_"Oh my god..." _

_"Someone's definitely going to hear about this..."_

A few days had gone by since the scene in the library, and both Harry and Draco were shocked to find out that a rumor was flying around the school. A rumor of them kissing in the library. Even at meals, Draco heard small snippets of conversation talking on how Harry and himself had gone as far as shagging on top of a table. Bloody _hell_; it was ridiculous.

"I am going to start cursing people if I keep on hearing this," Draco said coldly. He was seated at the Gryffindor table. He figured that it was safer not to be eating with his own housemates.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Harry muttered. "Just let them think what they want."

"But they think we've bloody fucked!" Draco exclaimed. He slammed a fist on the table. Several of the Gryffindors jumped, looking at him irritably. Draco didn't notice. He was angry. He hated how his life seemed to be the only source of gossip at this school, or Harry's life, for that matter.

"Is it true though?" Seamus asked, suddenly coming up from behind them. He took the empty seat beside Harry, grinning from ear to ear.

"No, Seamus," Harry replied tonelessly. "None of it is."

"So you're telling me that the _Ravenclaws_ made it up?"

"Yes, they did!" Draco said, annoyed. He started mounting piles of food onto his dinner plate, trying to distract himself from the whispering around them.

"Why would they do that?" Seamus asked curiously.

"They probably want to make our lives a living hell and believe we're gay so they have something to fantasize about at night," Draco growled. He began glaring at his dinner roll, looking murderous.

There only was one thing that was bothering him about this, however. He didn't care if the school thought he was gay, or if he was kissing Harry Potter where everyone could see. It was Blaise and his father he was worried about. He didn't want them to do anything to him again, and with this sort of information floating around, they were bound to do just that.

And if the Death Eaters weren't caught by the time he left this school, there was no doubt his father would hunt him down and do whatever possible to change his 'queer' son's ways.

Draco suddenly felt sick to his stomach, and he quickly pushed his food away from him, hiding his head in his arms. He wanted to leave right _now_, but he didn't want to without Harry.

"Can you leave already?" Harry asked Seamus with narrowed eyes.

"But--"

"Nothing is true! You can tell everyone that, alright?"

"Alright! No need to get a temper!" Seamus replied, putting his hands up in a surrendering motion. He got up with his plate and moved to sit at the other end of the table, nearer to the other Gryffindors. Harry turned back to his own food.

"Sorry about that, Draco," he said quietly.

Draco stayed silent, causing Harry to look over and see that the boy was resting with his arms on the table, his head buried inside them. He thought that the Slytherin was crying. "Draco? What's wrong?"

"Everything," Draco said in a muffled voice.

"It's okay... it'll eventually die off, you know."

"Sure, it will. And what about my father?"

Harry's heart sank. He had nearly forgotten about Draco's father. He had forgotten that the Death Eaters still weren't captured, and that Blaise was _still_ keeping in touch with him. It was a time like this where Harry wished he could walk over to the Slytherin table and tear that bastard apart.

And he knew that if he told Dumbledore about Blaise keeping in touch with Lucius, he wouldn't be able to do much to stop it. Was he going to trap every owl that came with a letter? Was he going to keep watch on the Slytherin fireplace, or follow every place that Blaise went? Harry doubted it.

"He'll be caught soon, don't worry..." Harry comforted. "You should eat something."

"I'm not hungry anymore," Draco responded dismally.

"Do you want to go back to the dorm?"

"Yes."

"Okay, fine, let's go." Harry stood up, waiting for Draco to get up as well. He managed to do so very slowly. He looked miserable.

They made their way back to the dorm, and Harry could feel all those eyes follow them out. He knew that they were most likely making up more stories as to why they were leaving.

* * *

As soon as Harry and Draco entered the common room, Draco made his way over to his bed and collapsed onto it. He turned to lay on his side, one of his arms rising to rest over his head. "I don't want to leave this room anymore."

"Draco," Harry said tiredly, "Hiding in here won't make all this go away."

"Yes, but it'll let me ignore it all."

Harry sighed, and walked over to Draco's bed to sit on the edge. He watched the Slytherin quietly.

"I can't take everyone talking about me like I'm object. They don't even care about what's happened to me, or why I might be with you. They just make up stories as to what sort of sick and twisted sex life we lead. And it'll all go to my father, who'll eventually kill me, I know."

"Draco--"

"And Blaise is the one who started it all... that bloody imbecile." Draco turned over onto his back, his arm dropping over the side of the bed. He gazed over at Harry, his eyebrows furrowed. "Do you care about any of this?"

"Of course I do! Why else would I be here?"

Draco shrugged. "You could be feeling sorry for me."

"I'm sorry about what's happened to you, but I really do want to help you." Harry's expression remained serious. As he sat there, he leaned against the bedpost, trying to get comfortable. "Is this one of your depressed states? Because it's getting _me_ depressed. You know you could be cheerful to make all of this easier."

"Me? Cheerful?" Draco questioned. "When have you ever seen me cheerful?"

There was a long moment of silence in which Draco waited for an answer, and then Harry closed his eyes. "I don't think I've ever seen you cheerful."

"That's right." Draco sighed again.

"Could you stop that?" Harry complained. He opened his eyes to send Draco a pointed glare.

"Stop what?" Draco asked innocently.

"Sighing."

Draco smirked. So maybe he _could_ let the atmosphere get a little more 'cheerful,' as Harry put it. Thinking about his father, Blaise, and the rest of the school was only making him want to attack something himself. Toying with Harry would probably help him feel better. It always seemed to.

"But why?" Draco sighed again. He shifted restlessly on the bed. Harry narrowed his eyes at him.

"What are you trying at now?"

"Nothing," Draco replied, his feigned innocent tone returning. "You know what?"

"What?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I should re-enact the other night. When you were _dreaming_, you know. I need to get my mind off of things."

"What?" Harry's eyes widened. "Have you gone insane, Malfoy?"

But the boy already began to writhe about on the bed, his body arching slightly forward as he tried imitating Harry's voice. "... Draco?" He whined, "Keep going..."

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed, jumping off from his seat on the bed. "What the hell are you doing!"

From where Draco was lying, the Slytherin smirked over at him. He closed his eyes then, giving a small moan. "Keep going... please..." His hand started venturing downward. Harry eyed him as if he'd just gone completely nutters.

"Hey, wha-- it wasn't like that!" Harry said, shocked. He tried ignoring the way his face was heating up, and the way that the warmth shot straight to his groin when he watched Malfoy on top of that bed. "Stop!"

With the same amused smirk on his face, he stopped. His hand drew away from where it had been heading, and he turned onto his side, resting his head on one elbow as he looked over at Harry. "Too much for you?"

"I think you've gone mad, Draco."

"I was only doing what _you_ were doing."

"Yeah, right," Harry said, sounding unconvinced.

Draco shrugged. "Believe what you want, but you gave me a right scare that night."

"Yes, and it's just like you to remember the vivid details, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." Draco rolled his eyes, bringing himself into a sitting position. "I'm trying to lighten the mood. It's making me feel better, though. Even if you're getting all hot and bothered by it."

"I'm not hot and bothered!"

"Well, you're blushing rather deeply..." Draco paused, his gaze flickering downward for just a second, "... and, it seems that you can get easily aroused." He motioned casually toward Harry's lower half. He fell back down on the bed then, smiling to himself. He didn't get to see Harry's reaction. The Gryffindor let out a small, startled sound as he looked down. How bloody _humiliating_.

"Ok, fine, you win," Harry muttered darkly, "I'll be right back." Slowly, he started making his way toward the bathroom. Draco glanced up quickly.

"Want me to help you?" He asked curiously.

"No, just stay!" Harry said sharply. There was the sound of the bathroom door opening and shutting, and Draco went back to relaxing on the bed. A few minutes late, he could hear faint sounds coming from where Harry had just disappeared.

Though, another minute into it, another sound drowned it out. It was a sharp tapping at the window. Draco lazily brought himself off of the bed to go and check what the noise was. It appeared to be an owl, but Draco didn't recognize it. "I think you've got a letter!" Draco called.

He walked closer to the window to draw it open, and the owl fluttered inside, landing on one of the empty bedside tables. He waited until Draco came over to untie the letter from his leg. He left a moment after. And the Slytherin was just about to put the letter on top of Harry's bed, when he saw the writing on the front. It was addressed to him, and the handwriting...

"Oh god," Draco whispered. He sat weakly down on the bed nearest him, staring apprehensively at the letter in his hands. He knew who this was from... and he knew that he didn't want to open it. It'd been a long time since the last time Lucius had sent him something; and the result of following the directions on it had ended painfully. Draco shut his eyes tightly, willing himself not to remember anything. It failed to work.

"I'll be out in just a second!" Harry called out. Draco heard soft shuffling from behind the bathroom door. He opened his eyes, quickly tearing open the letter with shaky hands. Almost instantly, he could feel his eyes burning. _Please... don't let it be anything bad... let him be in trouble..._

**Draco, **

**I've heard about yourself and Harry Potter. Not a very good decision, I must inform you. I thought I'd gotten it quite clear to you that you'll be joining me as soon as you leave that school. I'm afraid more is in order to get you to change your mind. It'll only hurt for a day or two. **

**L.**

Draco didn't waste any time in crumpling the letter up and tossing it across the room after he had finished reading it. His tears were definitely urging to spill now, but he paid no attention to it. He was furious. Furious at his father for doing this to him; for ruining his life and threatening even more pain.

With an angry yell, Draco grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it against one of the bedside tables. It didn't do much. It only caused an alarm clock to topple onto the floor. He didn't know of any other way to vent out his frustration, but that hadn't made him feel any bit better.

"Draco?" Harry asked tentatively. Draco hadn't noticed him leaving the bathroom, and the boy was standing a bit of a ways away, watching him worriedly. "What happened?"

The Slytherin didn't answer, and instead rested his elbows on his knees so that he could bury his face in his hands. They eventually held tightly onto his hair, as if pulling it would help calm him.

"My father..." Draco said softly, through gritted teeth. "He just sent me a letter."

Harry frowned and began scanning his eyes over the room. He finally spotted a crumpled up piece of parchment over in the corner. Though he didn't go over to get it. He walked over to Draco instead, sitting down beside him. "What did it say?"

In a rather swift movement, Draco left the position he was in and instead threw himself onto Harry. Arms wrapped around his neck as he buried his head against the Gryffindor's shoulder. His legs were folded on either side of Harry's as he brought himself into the boy's lap.

Harry's eyes widened for only a moment, before he realized that it was just another one of Draco's hugs. He heard the boy sniff, and didn't doubt that he was trying not to cry again. Slowly, Harry brought up an arm to rest gently on Draco's back. "It's okay... you don't have to tell me... you just... have to let me know if it's something someone can help you with."

Draco gripped Harry's robes tighter. "He just wants to make sure I'm still with him... he knows about you helping me... he's going to do something to me..."

"No one will let him do anything to you," Harry replied, his tone serious.

"You can't know that..." Draco whispered.

"Yes, _I'll_ make sure he doesn't do anything."

Harry could suddenly feel the soft rise and fall of Draco's chest against his own. He seemed to be calming down. A few minutes went by in silence.

"Harry..." Draco said abruptly, "I feel sick."

"Sick? You mean not feeling well?"

"Yes... my head hurts..." Draco pulled away from the hug then, and began moving his way off of Harry. An attempt was given to stand, but as soon as he did, he swayed to the side and nearly fell onto the floor.

Harry caught him by one arm before he did, and then tugged him back toward the bed. "Be careful. You should--" Harry started nervously.

But the Slytherin's eyes fluttered closed as he collapsed limply onto the bed beside him. Harry shook him lightly, saying Draco's name in a panicked voice, but the boy didn't respond.


	25. In the Hospital Wing

Draco slowly opened his eyes, trying to adjust to the bright light that seemed to be coming from all directions. He turned his head to the side to see someone sitting in a chair beside him. They were sleeping with their head leaning back. "Harry?" Draco mumbled.

The boy stirred and lifted his head from the chair, then looked over at him. He smiled some. "You're finally awake."

"Where am I?" Draco asked.

"Hospital Wing," Harry replied. He sat up in the chair and began pulling it closer to Draco's bedside. "You passed out in the dorm about five hours ago."

"I... what?" Draco started to push himself up with his arms, but a sharp pain shot through him. Every muscle in his body felt like they were on fire. With a groan, he fell back onto the bed.

Harry's eyebrow's furrowed in concern. "What's wrong?"

Draco gritted his teeth, his hands gripping tightly onto the bed sheets. "Everything hurts like hell."

"Everything?" Harry asked nervously.

"Yes, everything!" Draco snapped. His eyes tightly closed when he saw white spots dancing in front of his eyes. He couldn't even _move_; all he'd been able to accomplish was turning his head to see that Harry was next to him.

Harry stood up, his fingers idly picking at the sheets. "Should I go fetch Madam Pomfrey?"

Draco thought for a moment, and when Harry began moving around the bed to go and get her, he sat up quickly to stop him. It felt like he was being torn apart, and the abruptness caused him to cry out and grasp tightly onto the bars beside him.

"Draco, I really think I should go get her!" Harry said, panicked.

"No, don't..." Draco said, barely able to speak loud enough He was breathing heavily. "I think... it was the letter..."

"Then I should go tell someone so they can figure out what's happened to you!"

"I don't anyone finding _out_," Draco said, his tone forceful. He looked over at Harry slowly. He could feel himself beginning to sweat; he still felt like he was throbbing all over.

The Gryffindor watched him silently for the next few moments, deciding on whether he should listen or go get help anyway. Draco looked like he was in bad condition, and seeing him like this made him scared. He hadn't kept his promise about keeping the boy safe...

"Ok, well can you at least lay down?" Harry pleaded, "Please?" He walked back over to the chair, standing and waiting for Draco to listen. And the boy finally did. He layed back down against the pillow, biting his lip to keep from crying out again.

Harry sat down as soon as he was sure Draco was positioned as before, and he rubbed distractedly at his forehead, looking tired.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the tower right now?" Draco asked. He kept his breathing steady.

"No, I have to stay here with you."

"It's probably midnight, Harry."

"So? I'll stay here for days if I have to."

Five minutes passed before anything else was said. The only sound was their soft breathing and the small opening and closing of cabinets back in the nurse's office. Draco wondered if he had to down any grotesque potions. He hoped not, because he knew no potion would help cure this.

"Thank you," Draco said quietly.

"For what?" Harry asked, sounding miserable, "I let this happen to you. I should've been there before you opened that letter."

Draco almost smiled, but even that was painful. He resulted to closing his eyes again. "Just for being here. Taking me here. I don't think anyone else would've."

It took a while for Draco's words to sink in. His mind seemed to be in another place; he wanted Draco to feel better... he hadn't wanted for him to be in any other kind of pain.

Harry sent a sad look the Slytherin's way, tempted to lay a hand on his arm as a gesture of comfort, but he kept back. He was sure it wouldn't do him any physical harm, but he didn't want the boy to get into any more trouble than he seemed to be in already.

"It's okay... I want to be here," Harry replied.

* * *

_"Draco? No one followed you?" _

_"No, no one followed me."_

"Draco!"

"_I- I thought we've settled that already... You know I'm really sorry..." _

_"If you run, it'll only make it more painful, Draco. You run, and I _will_ use an Unforgivable."_

"Draco!"

_"Let me do this, then. If you don't resist, I won't hurt you," _

_"Please..." _

_"Don't fight me." _

_"Turn around."_

"Mr. Malfoy! Wake up!"

Draco felt a rough shaking from his shoulders and his eyes snapped open; he sat up quickly in his bed, breathing heavily and feeling hot tears stinging his face. His hands were shaking... but... nothing hurt anymore.

Madam Pomfrey was hovering over him, putting her hand to his forehead to determine his temperature. "You're downright cold, Mr. Malfoy. Lay back down and cover yourself!"

Draco did what he was told, but looked quickly around as he did so. Harry was standing back a ways, watching him with worried eyes. He looked terrified. "Mr. Potter gave me a scare for a moment... when he said you were tossing and turning in your sleep... crying out..." The nurse muttered as she bustled over to a table and grabbed a vile of what looked like green swamp water.

"It... was... just a nightmare..." Draco breathed, trying to calm himself. The dream had been so vivid, like it had been happening all over again. For a moment he believed his father had been the one shaking him...

"Drink this!" Madam Pomfrey stuck a goblet above him, and before Draco could protest, she tilted the cup against his mouth and he was forced to swallow whatever it happened to be. As soon as it was empty, he nearly gagged it back up. He turned onto his side and coughed over the side of the bed.

"You will _not_ cough that back up," she murmured, pushing him hurriedly back into bed. She straightened up his sheets. "You'll be feeling better in no time. Tomorrow morning you should be able to get back to schedule."

"What was wrong with me?" He asked, feeling on the verge of getting sick again.

"Mr. Potter informed me that you haven't been eating enough," she replied, looking sternly at him, "You must start eating. Each and every meal, or I suspect I'll be seeing much more of you." After cleaning up the tray of potions on the bedside table, she huffed tiredly and began walking back to her office.

When she was gone, Harry made his way forward, stopping to stand quietly by Draco's bedside. "Was it a nightmare?"

"Yes," Draco muttered. He turned around on the bed, so that his head was buried inside the pillow. "My father is haunting me..." He said, his voice muffled.

He heard Harry sigh and then the sound of the boy sitting down in the chair. This was the first night Draco had dreamed of his father, yet it was the third day he'd been in the Hospital Wing. Harry had stayed by his side the entire time, eating whatever the nurse brought them during the past few days. Draco supposed Dumbledore had informed her of the situation, which was why Harry was allowed to stay.

"I feel like I'm going to end up going crazy!" Draco exclaimed suddenly.

"It's okay," Harry responded with a hint of annoyance that wasn't there before. It caused Draco to look up at him. When he did, he saw Harry glaring at his feet.

"What's happened to you? Oh... and thanks for covering up for me," Draco added quickly, referring to how Harry had said this sickness was all because of his lack of eating.

"I wish they could hurry up and catch them," Harry growled, "And you're welcome."

Draco smiled slightly, somehow feeling better by hearing Harry say that. He looked genuinely angry about it, as well as for Draco's health. "I'm sorry..." Draco said quietly.

"You don't have to be sorry. They _deserve_ to be caught, and given the dementor's kiss as well." Harry sighed again, falling irritably back in his chair. His gaze landed on Draco and it instantly softened. "You're not hurting anymore?"

"No, it's gone." Draco grinned. He was incredibly happy about this. The pain had been killing him. Not only did it feel like he was enduring one of the Unforgivables every time he moved, but he had to lay _still_ for three whole days.

"Just like that?" Harry asked, sounding doubtful.

"Yes, and I don't feel any different from before," Draco said haughtily.

Harry watched him questionably before Draco answered what he must've wanted to ask. "My father said that it might help in changing my mind. It didn't. I don't care what he tries on me anymore."

Harry smiled. Draco returned the gesture, and then turned onto his side so that he'd be able to face the Gryffindor. "There might be something that'll make me feel a little bit better." Draco eyed him, an amused glint in his stare. Harry knew he was trying to divert his thoughts on something else other than his father.

"And what would that be?" Harry inquired, leaning forward with his arms on his knees.

There was a long pause before Draco spoke. "You can... kiss me."

Draco instantly saw a dark blush rise in Harry's cheeks. The boy leaned back again, looking a bit nervous. "How can that..."

"We've done it before," Draco said, "I don't see why you're so shy about it now."

"Oh... well... okay, I'll do it, I guess."

Quickly, since the boy seemed to find it better to get right to it rather than draw out the time to get even more nervous, Harry leaned forward and tilted his head to the side, pressing his lips against Draco's. It lasted more than a moment, and Harry could feel one of Draco's arms snaking its way around his neck.

Somehow, during that one moment, everything felt alright again.


	26. Something's Wrong

The next day Draco returned to his normal schedule. Of course, it wasn't at all normal at the moment, but he could say that it was. He didn't mind sharing the same schedule as Harry, and he'd learned to ignore the others when it came to classes.

They were making their way back to the Gryffindor Tower after a long day enduring History of Magic, Transfiguration, and Herbology, and the other Gryffindors were dragging along behind them. Draco could feel eyes on the back of his head. He glanced back.

"What are you all looking at?" He asked coldly.

Most of them jumped as if they'd been in a trance and then looked away. Others, like Weasley or Finnigan, merely rolled their eyes and continued doing whatever they were. Which might've been staring at the back of his head, or maybe talking about him behind his back. Glaring, he returned to watching where he was heading.

"I'm sure they're only wondering why you were gone for nearly four days," Harry commented.

"So? If they want to ask, then they should. I won't bite them."

"They think you will."

Draco smirked, shaking his head as he looked to the ground. "I'll only agree to biting you."

Heat rose in Harry's cheeks again, and he fought to not look too uneasy all of a sudden, as his housemates were still behind him. Draco glanced up at him and grinned, glad he'd gotten Harry a bit flushed again; he found it to be incredibly easy.

They arrived at the common room about five minutes later, and everyone climbed their way inside, feeling relieved that another day of classes was over and done with. Draco was just about to make himself comfortable on the couch, when the opening of the portrait hole distracted him from it. It was Professor McGonagall.

Harry instantly walked over to stand beside Draco, a bit worried as to what the head of house was doing here. She didn't normally come inside unless something had happened. And as he suspected... she came over to where both Draco and Harry were standing.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, I must speak with you back at the Headmaster's office," she said quietly.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"You will have to wait until we leave this room. Come along," she spoke hurriedly. They both did what they were told, but Draco couldn't help but get a bad feeling about this. He hadn't thought that anything else could go wrong... at least so quickly... and he hoped it wasn't anything too serious...

But then that wouldn't make any sense if the professor was taking them to Dumbledore's office.

"So what is it, then?" Draco asked, his tone somewhat impatient.

The Professor stopped walking, then turned around to face them. Her expression was solemn. "I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy..."

All of a sudden, there seemed to be a pause in time. Every thought seemed to shut down and move toward the back of his mind... Draco _knew_ what was wrong now. There was nothing else that could make them need to leave the common room to go have a talk with the Headmaster...

From a ways off, where McGonagall's words sounded like mere whispers, his guessing was confirmed.

"This evening... your mother was found dead."

* * *

Two hours later, back in the dorm, Draco was laying stomach first on the bed, his hands clutching onto the pillow as he cried into it. "God dammit, that bastard. I'm going to bloody _kill_ him."

"Draco--"

"I swear that I am! As soon as I'm out of here, I'm going to use the killing curse and make sure he doesn't do anything ever again!" Draco was screaming, but his voice was muffled against the pillow. Harry watched him sadly, feeling as bad as the Slytherin did. He felt like he had let the boy down in some way, and his misery was as equal to his own.

"Please don't do that..." Harry said softly. He put his head in his hands, trying not to break down himself. "You can't throw your life away like that... he'll get what he deserves sooner or later."

"Well, if they don't do it soon, I'll do it myself. I don't care about what happens to me anymore. I won't have a life if I end up following Voldemort," Draco countered bitterly. "And I know I didn't pay enough attention to my mother, and that she wasn't there for me for a long time, but I _still_ loved her, for god sake!" Out of frustration, Draco suddenly sat up on his knees, throwing the pillow across the room with an angry yell. He dropped back onto all fours.

Harry glanced up at Draco again, "I'm sorry, Draco."

"I know. Me too." Draco dropped down against the bed, turning to lay on his side. He was facing away from Harry. A hand lifted to rub at his eyes, which he assumed were more red than any other time he'd felt this low. Actually, he didn't think he had _ever_ felt this low.

Nothing more was said between the two. Draco eventually fell asleep, mostly to try and forget about this entire thing. Or at least for a little while.

Harry watched him for a few minutes after that, and when his dorm mates came up to go to sleep themselves, they didn't speak to the either of them. They knew that something was wrong, and they didn't want to make anything worse. They'd gotten used to Draco, and understood it was best not to get involved. They finally understood that Draco had more problems in his life than they did.

* * *

Draco seemed to get more hostile as the days went by. He snapped at anyone who talked to him, including the professors. He'd gotten several warnings from McGonagall and Snape already, but they never gave him a detention. Harry supposed they knew what was wrong with him.

Harry was surprised that the boy was actually wanting to stay with him still. Draco had snapped at him once or twice too, but it'd only been because he didn't know who was behind him.

The students were soon on another break yet again. It seemed like the end of the year would be here in no time, though there were at least two months left until summer. There was no news of the Death Eaters or anything more on Draco's family. He had refused to go to his mother's funeral, in fear that his father might be there or possibly some people he really didn't want to see.

"Hey, Draco! How's life with Potter?"

It was a Friday, and they were on their way to the Great Hall for lunch. Blaise and a bunch of other Slytherins had come up beside Draco and Harry, looking smug. It triggered a burning surge of anger inside Draco, and he stopped to glare icily at the other Slytherin.

"You certainly don't look happy, do you?"

Draco still didn't say anything. He was thinking of how it was all Blaise's fault that his father was ruining his life. It was Blaise's fault that his mother was dead.

"... or are you still mourning over your mental mother? She wasn't that big of a loss."

"Go to hell, Zabini," Draco shot back.

Harry looked between them worriedly, wondering if he should get between an argument that might turn into something serious. Getting a Professor might be a better idea. So, cautiously, he began edging away from Draco and went the rest of the way into the Great Hall. They didn't notice.

Blaise smirked. "It's okay if you are. Though I'm not sure why. _Wasn't_ she crazy and neglectful?"

"Sure she was, because of my fucking father!" Draco said angrily.

"You shouldn't talk about him like that." Blaise frowned.

"He bloody _deserves_ to be called that. He's evil and so are you," Draco growled.

Draco's fists clenched at his sides as he continued glaring at Blaise. The Slytherins that were gathered behind him were being ignored; he was furious enough so that he couldn't even get himself to move.

"We're not. You're just making a mistake," Blaise said arrogantly,

"No, I'm not. You helped my father kill my mother. You've made me lose my _entire_ family."

"It's not my fault that you wouldn't listen to your father the first time."

"HE'S CRAZY!"

"Yeah, you can keep saying that. We don't believe you."

"Haven't you met up with him since his escape?" Draco asked through gritted teeth. He turned his stare toward the floor; he could feel those images from his nightmare fighting to come back. He wasn't going to let them... not now, at least.

"No, but he's been keeping in touch," Blaise said hotly. "I don't see why you had to turn into such a wuss. And _gay_ too, what the hell is that? Your father is furious at you."

As soon as that left Blaise's mouth, something snapped inside Draco. He couldn't take this anymore. He couldn't take the boy being around anymore. He needed to die; he needed to die along with the rest of the Death Eaters, and right _now_.

"Oh, really?" Draco seethed. In the next second, he strode his way quickly forward and shoved Blaise roughly aside. The boy stumbled and fell onto the ground, startled.

Draco thought the others would hurry up and come to Blaise's side, but they didn't. They backed up, looking wary. Draco had drawn out his wand, pointing it at Blaise's chest as the boy cowered nervously on the floor. "You're gay too, you know."

"I'm not!" Blaise countered darkly. "Get that wand away from me."

"No," Draco threatened, "And yes you are, you bloody idiot. What did you call it when you were doing whatever you wanted with me? You mistook me for a girl?"

"That was different! You weren't listening to your father!" Blaise defended.

"Sure it was! _Everything_ is about him, isn't it!" Draco shouted. "You tell him everything too! You can't keep your mouth shut!"

"He wants to know--"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT HE WANTS TO KNOW. DON'T TELL HIM ANYTHING ELSE OR I'LL KILL YOU!"

"Mr. Malfoy!"

Draco whipped around, his wand still out. Blaise took that time to scramble to his feet, hurriedly making his way back toward the group of gaping Slytherins. He looked terrified.

"Put your wand down immediately!"

Professor McGonagall had come out of the Great Hall, followed by Snape and Dumbledore. Harry was standing hesitantly beside them, looking worried again. His eyes followed Draco's hand as it lowered to his side. Draco's gaze lowered as well.

"What do you think you were doing, threatening another student? That is cause for serious punishment, Mr. Malfoy!"

"I'm sorry, Professor," he mumbled inaudibly.

"What was the reason for this?" Snape queried, examining both Draco and Blaise.

Draco looked up quickly, and Blaise started forward just as fast. "He just snapped, Professor! He pushed me to the ground and sta--"

"I did not! He was talking about my fa--" Draco suddenly stopped in the middle of the sentence, falling silent. Harry looked at him, surprised. He'd almost let it slip.

"What was that?" Snape asked.

Harry glanced at Dumbledore to see that the man was standing to the side, his glittering eyes resting on Draco. He knew that the headmaster knew something; how could he _not_? Especially with all of this happening? Harry bit his lip, determined not to add in anything himself.

"Nothing. He just made me angry... I couldn't control myself," Draco muttered.

"I see..." Snape said, sounding somehow disbelieving.

"We'll let you off just this _once_, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said quietly, interrupting Blaise's attempt to say otherwise. "But the next time we hear that you've been threatening another student's life, you won't be so lucky."

"Yes, sir," Draco replied, his gaze now facing the wall. It was only until the Professors went back inside the Great Hall, followed by the Slytherins, when Draco looked back up. He looked at Harry despondently.

"I'm sorry, Draco... I had to tell them. I didn't want you getting into a fight." Harry frowned, looking honestly guilty. He wasn't sure if the Slytherin was mad at him or not, but judging by how far he'd already gotten in the fight with Blaise, it was lucky he'd fetched help.

Draco began making his way away from the hall and instead in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. "It's fine."

"Are... you sure?" Harry asked tentatively. He followed slowly behind the other boy.

"Yes," Draco replied softly.

They walked a bit more before Draco stopped in his tracks. Harry stopped beside him, glancing sideways to look at the boy. "Are you alright?"

Draco sighed, turning slowly around. Before he answered, he took that small step forward and leaned against Harry, his arms wrapping lightly around his waist. Harry didn't push him away; he knew he didn't mind this, and if the boy needed comfort this way, he'd give it.

"I'm tired of this happening... and I'm sorry for being such a git these past few days... it's just..." Draco sighed again, though it was barely heard that time. He moved closer against Harry, closing his eyes. "... I don't know what to feel anymore."

Harry stood there, feeling absolutely horrible for the boy. For a moment he thought that switching lives with the boy might be a good idea... but of course that couldn't happen. "It's okay, Draco. Like I said... it'll get better soon."

This seemed to help a bit. Draco gave a tiny smile, lifting his eyes to meet Harry's. He leaned the small distance forward to kiss the boy gently. It lasted only a few moments, and then Draco pulled away to speak faintly. "I just want to forget that all of this is happening... I only want to be with you."


	27. A Bit of Fun

Draco and Harry entered a completely empty common room a few minutes later. Draco was still clinging affectionately to Harry, looking on the edge of falling asleep. Though Harry really had no objection to that; having Draco this close was managing to make him feel better. He was pretty warm as well, which was bringing on that sleepy feeling Draco must've been feeling.

"Would you like to stay down here or go up to the dorm?" Harry asked.

"The dorm," Draco replied quietly.

So they made their way up the small flight of stairs and entered an equally empty dormitory. Harry wondered if Draco was going to move away now... to go do whatever he'd been wanting to do by coming here. It didn't seem like he was going to do so.

"Did you want to... um... sleep or something?" Harry asked hesitantly. He began making his way over to his bed, with Draco obediently stepping to keep beside him. They both sat down, and Draco gave a small yawn against his shoulder.

"Something," Draco muttered. "Let's do something."

"Like what?"

Draco let out a soft, calm breath of air before making himself more comfortable amongst Harry. The Gryffindor froze where he was sitting, swallowing heavily. Draco moved one leg over both of Harry's, so that he was straddling the boy's lap. One of his arms wrapped around Harry's neck, his head resting on his shoulder so that his face was buried inside the Gryffindor's neck. Slowly, Harry felt Draco's other hand sliding leisurely beneath his shirt. He held his breath for a few seconds.

"D-Draco, we shouldn't do this..." Harry said, feeling himself grow hot.

"You don't want to?" Draco questioned softly. He licked lightly at Harry's neck, earning a shiver from the other boy.

"Someone could come in at any second," Harry suggested, unconsciously tilting his head back to let Draco continued licking along it.

"It doesn't matter," Draco said, now beginning to gently kiss the boy's neck, "They already think we're up to something." Draco's hand edged a bit further up, tracing patterns along Harry's bare skin. The Gryffindor leaned back, using his hands to keep himself up.

"But... shouldn't you be... wanting to calm down or something?" Harry asked quietly. Draco was pushing against his chest now, wanting him to lay back. He did, but he also become unusually nervous all of a sudden. He bit his lip. "You've just gotten into a fight with Blaise..."

Draco's arm curved back from around Harry's neck and instead joined the other hand beneath his shirt. He moved forward a bit more, leaning over Harry. "I don't want to think about him right now. And I'm calm enough." And the Slytherin made sure he sounded quite certain of it.

Harry barely nodded. "Alright."

Without taking any more time, Draco leaned down and placed his lips against Harry's. His eyes fluttered closed, as well as the Gryffindor's. Neither of them hesitated in the kiss; Harry parted his lips and allowed Draco to kiss him further. His arms wrapped around the pale boy's waist.

Hands ventured further up Harry's shirt then, and fingers traced lightly over the sensitive rises of skin. As Draco deepened the kiss, Harry let out a moan, his body arching upward. Draco smiled against Harry's lips. "This reminds me of another time."

Harry's cheeks were burning and he soon felt like his entire body was tingling. He opened his eyes and blinked up at Draco. "It wasn't like this," he breathed.

"But close," Draco said with a smirk. He began to slide his hand out from beneath his shirt, and instead of stopping, he kept on going. He stopped when he reached where he'd been aiming for. His hand pressed down against the spot on Harry's pants, and the Gryffindor let out a small whine.

"What are you doing?" Harry murmured.

Draco merely grinned at him, making sure he was still positioned agreeably on Harry's lap. He leaned forward then, close enough that their lips were almost touching, and his hand pushed forward again. Harry closed his eyes, one hand moving to clutch onto the bed sheets. "Draco... please... we can't..."

There was another push, and this time Draco's hand stayed there, massaging the spot with the palm of his hand. Harry gave a small gasp and held his breath again, that warm feeling rushing down to his groin. He knew it was growing hard... but he couldn't... not now...

"Getting to you yet?" Draco asked softly. He leaned forward and licked playfully at Harry's ear. When he heard Harry give another one of those helpless whimpers, he bit on it gently; his hand kept what it was doing, and he could feel the other boy unintentionally pushing up against it.

Draco pulled back again, and stopped all that he was doing. Harry was trying to calm his breathing, as well as willing his flush to go away. "Could I help you finish?" Draco asked.

"What?" Harry questioned quietly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You haven't come yet, have you?"

"What!" Harry's eyes widened, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Draco, I..."

"You haven't," Draco interrupted. "Well, let me do it."

"But..."

"I only stopped in order to ask you to go on. I wouldn't take advantage of you..."

"This is weird, though!"

"So? Because I'm a boy?"

"No!" Harry paused. "I mean... well, yes it is. And you'll be touching _me_ and it's very awkward... and..."

"You don't have to worry about that."

There was a minute of silence before Harry finally decided to speak. "Okay, fine."

"I can?" Draco grinned. Just hearing Harry say it was okay made him feel unusually good.

"...yeah, but... don't tell anyone or anything," Harry said, sounding uncomfortable.

"I won't," Draco assured.

They stayed the way they were for a few more moments, and then Draco realized that Harry had no idea what he wanted him to do. He was sitting there, his eyes darting between the floor and the Slytherin.

"Well, you can take off your pants for a start," Draco said casually. He moved his way off of the Gryffindor, and stood in front of him so that he was able to take the piece of clothing off.

Harry's cheeks turned red, but he didn't say anything. He layed back on the bed then, and proceeded to pull them off. His hands seemed to be shaking. "No need to be nervous," Draco comforted. "You don't have to do anything."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "You're just so calm about this... I don't understand how..."

"Your uneasiness comforts me." Draco smirked.

Harry looked up at him for one quick moment, looking a bit annoyed at the comment, but his pants were soon off, and that seemed to be the main distraction from that point. Harry's eyes shut tightly, as if watching was somehow even more embarrassing.

Draco thought he looked quite nice though.

"You want to just lay there then?" Draco questioned, climbing back onto the bed. He drew his knees beneath him as he leaned over Harry. The boy nodded and bit his bottom lip.

With a bit of a pause beforehand, Draco brought his hand down to wrap his fingers gently around the other boy. Harry drew in a sharp breath, keeping his eyes closed.

"Let me know if you want to stop," Draco said quietly. He leaned down to kiss Harry, and as they did, his hand began moving slowly up and down Harry's warm erection.

Draco broke the kiss when Harry began breathing a bit faster. His gaze ventured to where his hand was, and he began moving it a bit faster. One of his eyes closed; he was concentrating on the task at hand. This entire thing was making him a bit hot and bothered himself. Harry's short gasps weren't helping.

A few more seconds passed, and Harry's breathing was getting shallower. Draco began moving faster, slightly pulling, and by the small shudders coming from Harry, he didn't think it'd be that much longer.

"I.. I'm..." Harry gasped out. Draco bit his own lip, and hearing the Gryffindor made him work his hand as even more than he already was.

It was a few more seconds before Harry arched forward, letting out a breathy moan as he spilled out and onto Draco's hand. He collapsed weakly against the blankets. "Oh god..." Harry breathed., his chest heaving.

Quite a bit winded himself, Draco unwrapped his fingers from around Harry and looked down at his hand. It was quite a mess, but he really didn't mind. It was all worth it; to make Harry feel that way, to make him make sounds like that... Draco gave a small smile.

"I wonder what you taste like..." Draco muttered lightly. He glanced quickly up at Harry and saw that the boy was staring at him with halfway closed emerald eyes. The flush seemed to have spread to his ears and down to his neck. "Do you think I should try it?" Draco lifted the hand to show him what he was talking about.

Harry suddenly appeared to snap out of his half-conscious state. Draco smirked as the boy sat up slowly on the bed, staring at him as if he were crazy. "You want to _try_ that?"

Draco shrugged. "Yes, I'm curious." Eyes drifted downward again. "Or I can try it another way." He looked back up at the Gryffindor with a sly grin.

"Nonono," Harry said quickly. He hurriedly covered himself up, becoming bashful all over again. "It's okay..."

"Are you sure?" Draco said smoothly. He brought his hand up to his face then, examining it. A moment later, he stuck his tongue out, licking at one of his fingers hesitantly. Harry watched him with wide eyes, finding that watching him wasn't at all disgusting; it was quite the opposite.

"Well..." Draco started slowly. He stopped licking it off of that one finger, and then lowered his hand to wipe the rest off on the already stained sheets. "It's alright... though I'm not sure about the saltiness."

"Oh god, Draco..." Harry muttered. "I don't need to _know_."

The Slytherin grinned again, and leaned quickly forward, placing both his hands on Harry's thighs. They curved a bit between them, and it caused Harry to give a small yelp of surprise. "Draco!"

"I'm sure it'll taste better if I try it from a different angle," Draco said quietly, mischief twisting through his tone. He came in very close to kissing Harry again, but the Gryffindor panicked and moved away.

"Ok, well... maybe... another time... I have to go take a shower now."

Draco followed him with his eyes as he remained sitting on the bed. He didn't mind the boy's quick leaving; he wasn't sure if he would stay still if someone that'd been licking what he had was about to kiss him again. However, he'd never tried it, and he didn't think Harry did at the moment either. "Alright, take your time," Draco replied contentedly. "I'll sleep for a bit."


	28. Pulled Away

A few more days passed, and as they did, Draco tried to get Harry to feel a little less nervous around him. He did this to keep his mind off of other things, and it helped in making him feel better. More relaxed and less angry, he could say. It was fun for him as well, to see the boy's reactions, and he was sure it was going to get to Harry one of these days.

He was also wondering over the short occasion in the library; Harry hadn't seemed too uneasy then...

"Why don't you kiss me like you did in the library?" Draco asked suddenly. They were sitting in the Gryffindor common room, books and schoolwork set out on the small table they were seated at. Everyone else was in other areas of the room, but Harry sent him a very pronounced 'what-do-you-think-you're-doing' look anyway.

"No one can hear us," Draco said, rolling his eyes. Though he lowered his voice anyway, averting his gaze toward a piece of parchment to continue writing the remainder of a paragraph. "That _was_ really nice, you know."

"Do we have to talk about this _here_?" Harry whispered.

"Well..." Draco drew out the word, acting as though it was hard to decide. "Yes, we do. I asked you a question and you should answer."

"Ok, fine," Harry said hurriedly. "There are people here, that's why."

"There have been plenty of times when we were alone."

Harry began to blush, turning his attention to a book on Herbology. Draco stared at him, trying to determine if the boy was going to say anything else. That really hadn't been a good enough answer.

"So, why haven't you?" Draco pried.

Harry glanced up quickly, and noticed that Draco had leaned forward a bit. "Well... you..." he started, but then stopped to think over his response.

"Go on," Draco said.

"You... well, you _kiss_ better than me." Harry's cheeks turned an even deeper red. Eyes went back to the book after scanning them over the room to make sure that no one had heard him.

"I _kiss_ better than you?" Draco questioned, nearly giving a snort of laughter. "I don't think so. You kiss well, and I wouldn't be asking you to do it again if you didn't. Are you afraid you'll make a mistake?" Draco smirked.

"If you have to know, yes!" Harry replied, sounding annoyed.

"How _adorable_," Draco teased. "You're concerned about how you kiss me."

Harry shot Draco a warning glare, though he looked more surprised than angry at how playful the Slytherin was being. Then the boy picked up a book and peered at Harry from over the edge. Harry knew Draco was grinning behind it, and it was only expected that Harry would get a bit bothered by it.

All of a sudden, the entrance to the common room opened, and someone came sprinting inside, breathless and tripping over their own feet. Both Harry and Draco's gaze snapped onto the person that just entered, as well as the rest of the common room. It was Neville.

"What happened to you?" Seamus asked from one of the corners. It broke the awkward silence that was passing while Neville tried catching his breath. Everyone started whispering to eachother.

"Slytherins..." Neville gasped. His eyes flickered onto Draco for a split second before pulling himself over to the couch. Seamus and his group of friends made their way over to him, asking him even more questions. Normally the Slytherins picked on Neville every week or so, so it wasn't that big of a surprise to anyone.

It did worry Draco, however. His smile had faded, and he was looking at a book, a worried expression on his face. Harry noticed. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I just... I don't know. I don't have a good feeling."

"Neville always gets beaten around by the Slytherins. No need to worry. I'm sure it wasn't about you." Harry tried smiling; tried getting them back to the mood they were in a second ago.

But instead he ended up jumping. The portrait of the common room had slammed shut. Harry leaned sideways to glance at it, and no one else was coming through. He supposed it hadn't been closed after Neville ran his way inside. Draco was looking closely at it as well.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Er... the portrait hole closing." Harry returned, trying to get his mind back on homework, even though he couldn't help but let it wander onto how strange this was.

"Oh," Draco said faintly. He appeared distracted. After sending a slightly curious glance Neville's way, he began to finish his homework too. He didn't notice that Neville kept glancing at him.

* * *

Later that night, when everyone was up in their dorms trying to get to sleep, Draco lay awake. Again. He couldn't stop worrying about something, and the terrible thing was that he didn't even _know_ what was bothering him. He just _felt_ worried.

Sighing, Draco turned onto his side, staring at the wall instead of at Harry. The boy was sleeping peacefully, as usual, and it only made Draco want to join him.

"_Draco_..."

In a faint voice, Draco thought he heard someone saying his name. He turned around in his bed, glancing beside him. No one was there, and none of the students in the dorm were awake.

"Draco!" The whispering became louder, and he suddenly felt his leg being shaken. He drew it up sharply and sat up in bed, eyes wide.

"Who's there?" He whispered timidly.

"It's Pansy," they replied.

Draco's eyebrows furrowed. He was staring at the spot the voice was coming from, but no one was there. Was he dreaming? Or maybe he was going crazy. "Where are you?"

"Invisible."

Draco heard the soft scuffling of feet, and before he knew it, Pansy appeared beside his bed. The darkness hid her well; she was wearing a black cloak. It looked as though she was holding another cloak in her arms. "We need to get you out of here," she said hurriedly. Her eyes showed her panic.

"What?" Draco asked, completely confused. How had Pansy gotten in? What did she want? "What are you talking about?"

"I don't have time to explain it all, but I can tell you that Blaise is planning something. I don't know what, but it's serious. Please trust me, Draco," she pleaded.

"Wh--" Draco started, starting to panic himself. He maneuvered his legs out of bed, keeping his eyes on her just in case this was a trick to hurt him somehow.

"Please! We have to be quick! I think he knows that I'm here," Pansy implored.

"How did you--"

"Through the entrance. I waited until you all went to sleep before coming up here to get you. We have to go!"

"Where are we going? Why should I trust you?" Draco questioned distrustfully.

"_Please_, Draco!" Pansy's voice held near tears, and that was really all Draco needed to assure himself she wasn't lying. She didn't cry unless she was genuinely worried about something; he remembered how she acted.

"Ok! Just let me grab my things!" Draco said, sounding rushed. He went over to his trunk and took his Slytherin cloak off from over it, tossed it over his shoulders, and hurried over to the bedside table to snatch up his wand.

"Alright, hurry!" Pansy whispered. She threw the invisibility cloak back over her shoulders and grabbed his hand to tug him under as well. They began making their way silently as possible through the dorm.

Draco's heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He felt cold all over, and as they snuck their way down the stairway and through the common room, he suddenly remembered that Harry was still sleeping. He hadn't gone anywhere without the boy ever since he was brought into the Gryffindor Tower. What was he _doing_ going somewhere he didn't know with Pansy?

"Wait, I have to get Harry!" Draco said quickly. He tugged on Pansy's wrist, trying to steer them back toward the dorm before they reached the portrait hole.

"We don't have time, Draco! He's coming!" Pansy looked at him, looking terrified again.

"But I can't go if he's not with me!"

"Oh, Draco... please... we have to--"

"Pansy, I can't... Harry needs to know..."

But they were already out of the common room, and it was too late for Draco to go back. Pansy was tugging him along frantically, trying to get him far away and out of the corridor.

Draco didn't know what to do. He was suddenly dreading his decision to go with Pansy, even if he i was /i in trouble. Though he was too scared to do anything else, and he knew it was too late. He wouldn't go running back now that he was left in the dark castle knowing that Blaise was roaming around.

And as Pansy led him down several more hallways toward where he thought was the way to the library, he could feel his eyes beginning to burn again. He wanted Harry here with him.


	29. Caught

Ten minutes later, Draco and Pansy entered the dark library, making their way between two shelves in the back. Draco was breathing quickly by now, terrified and worried beyond what he thought possible. It was much like the feeling he got when he knew he was going to go see his father again, or when he thought back on those times when he did.

"What are we doing?" Draco whispered. He'd gotten out from under the cloak so that he was able to move around more freely, and he was looking out from behind the bookshelf. He was trying not to let himself break down and cry, like he very much felt like doing.

"We're hiding," Pansy replied quietly.

"We're not allowed in here after hours. If Filch catches us, we'll be in for it."

"Filch is the _least_ of your worries, Draco. Please, come closer and let's stay quiet. Blaise could come searching in here."

Draco took a few steps back to where Pansy was standing, and then bent down to sit on the floor. His back leaned against the bookshelf, his head doing the same, his eyes closing. "I can't believe this is happening. Why did I even leave the common room? I would've been yelling if Blaise came in the dorm. Harry would've been able to help me."

Pansy glanced over at him, looking distressed about something. She'd taken off her cloak again, holding it beneath one of her arms. "Potter won't be able to help you with everything, you know."

"Yes, but he would've been able to help me then," Draco said miserably. "I'm so bloody stupid."

"You're not stupid. This was a last minute thing. I needed to get you out of there and it was good that you came. Harry wouldn't have been able to help you" Pansy sighed lightly and peeked between the books to get a closer look at the library doors. Draco lifted his head to watch her.

"Why are you helping me _now_?"

She looked back at him, looking a bit more jittery than normal. Her fingers were tapping against her side. "Listen, I heard Blaise talking about doing some sort of plan tonight, and I heard them mention something about taking you from the tower when everyone was sleeping. So... I couldn't just sit there. I wasn't able to do anything to help you before, because, well, Potter was with you."

Draco bit his lip, averting his eyes away from her. "Oh, well everything _was_ going well with him. The Gryffindors really aren't all that bad."

"Draco, you're not planning to join them, are you?" Pansy questioned, sounding hurt and disbelieving at the same time.

"What, you're expecting me to join my father?" Draco started, a bit irritated that she and the Slytherins still seemed to be worried about that. Hadn't they gotten the idea already?

A noise suddenly sounded from somewhere outside the library doors. It was a series of shuffling and rapid whispering. A second later there was a loud banging sound, and a string of loud curses echoed throughout the hallway. It sounded closer to the doors.

Pansy and Draco froze where they were, wanting to take a look at the entrance of the room but wanting to stay hidden as well. Draco could only think of how Blaise had found them, and that they were definitely in deep trouble. His eyes closed again, willing himself to calm himself. Willing himself to think of Harry coming to look for him; he had to have woken up by now...

"Jesus! Keep him still! What are you trying to do, wake up the whole castle?" Someone whispered harshly. The doors had opened and whoever it was was making their way carefully inside. Draco couldn't help it; he quickly glanced from around the bookshelf. He made out about four figures, and it was much too dark at a distance to make out whom they were. He could see one of them squirming, however.

"Pansy... I think we should go," Draco said, his voice nearly inaudible.

"Shh," she said quickly, peering through the cracks in the bookshelf again.

"_Pansy_, please!"

"Where the hell are they!" The person said again, louder this time. Draco finally recognized the voice, and it was only too obvious why they were here. Pansy had tricked him. She'd brought him here to meet the boy himself.

"Ow, he's kicking me." The second person's voice was deeper, and Draco already assumed that Crabbe and Goyle were with him. Damn it. He _knew_ he shouldn't have came here. He had to go, and he had to _now_.

So, he pushed himself up from the floor, beginning to look around the bookshelf again so that he was able to spot the others. He wanted to sneak around them, that way he'd be able to make a run for it before they spotted him.

"Draco! Wait!" Pansy exclaimed. She grabbed onto his wrist before he was able to move.

"Get off of me, you bloody traitor. You've led me to them!" Draco said angrily. He jerked on his wrist, drawing it back. He began backing away from her. She gave him an irritated look. It was then that he knew the entire 'trust' promise was a only a ploy to get him here alone.

"Blaise!" she called loudly. All at once, he saw the dark figures' heads snap their way, and in the next second, he bolted toward the doors. He didn't know what else to do, and a part of him was telling him that he might be able to make it.

"He's getting away!"

"Hey!"

Draco could feel his heart beating out of his chest again, and his breathing was the only thing he could hear as he ran toward the doors. He wouldn't let them do anything to him. He wouldn't let them bring them to where they wanted... he wouldn't listen to anything about his father...

His hand reached for the doorknob to throw the door open, but before he did so, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind. They tugged him roughly backward, and he felt himself toppling over, a startled sound leaving him. He scrambled to get up as quickly as he could, trying to fight the other off. They were latched onto him rather strongly.

"Get off of me!" Draco said frantically. He tried pulling the arms off as he struggled on the ground.

"Stop moving!" They said. The voice belonged to Blaise.

"No, get the hell off of me!"

"If you run, I'm going to curse Potter until the only thing he can think of is pain!"

Draco stopped struggling then, and he glanced in idle shock toward Blaise. _What?_ That threat had sounded remarkably like something his father would say. Where was Harry? What had they done to him?

Suddenly, his gaze snapped across the room, at the spot that Crabbe and Goyle were standing in. He noticed that the squirming figure wasn't another Slytherin; it was Harry.

"What the fuck, Zabini! What the hell is wrong with you?" Draco exclaimed furiously. He tried jerking away during that moment, but he was dragged violently upward by his waist. Blaise seemed to realize that a little more force was needed to contain the boy.

"That seemed to grab your attention. Now why is that?" Blaise inquired darkly. "Crabbe! Come over here! Goyle, keep a hold on Potter!" A moment later, Crabbe came bustling over at Blaise's request.

"Help me tie him," Blaise muttered.

"What?" Draco said, surprised, "What do you think you're doing?" Another attempt at escaping the boy's grasp was done, but it didn't work. Crabbe snatched his arms behind him, and Blaise proceeded to tie Draco's wrists tightly together.

"You realize we're still in bloody school?" Draco questioned anxiously. "You'll get expelled for this."

"I don't care," Blaise stated calmly. "The year's almost over and I don't even need this school anymore. Not for what I'm going to do. Anyway, I'm doing what I was ordered. C'mon."

Blaise tugged on Draco's wrists, pulling him back to where Harry was standing. Pansy had come out to stand beside Goyle, her eyes wandering onto Draco as they made their way over. She looked nervous and afraid. Draco glared at her, too angry and scared to really do anything about what was happening. He felt like there was nothing he _could_ do to help himself and Harry; this was hopeless. He'd made a mistake.

"I can't believe you, Pansy," Draco spat coldly. "I thought you were my friend."

"I'm so sorry, Draco," she said quietly. Her eyes looked down at the ground. He heard her sniff as she took a small step back.

"Oh, shove it. No need to get so emotional. If you hadn't gotten so attached to Harry in the first place, none of this would've happened," Blaise spoke, sounding annoyed.

"Go to hell!" Draco shouted. His glare whipped onto the Slytherin, then ventured to the right, where Harry was being held by Goyle.

His green eyes were wide; his glasses were gone. It appeared as though he'd put up a good fight; he looked exhausted. His wrists were also tied behind his back, and a piece of clothing was stuffed between his teeth.

"What are you doing to us?" Draco asked weakly. He wanted desperately to go over to Harry and untie him and let them both go back to the common room. They'd been sleeping only thirty minutes ago... not worrying about anything like this...

And Draco was furious at Blaise for doing this to Harry. Harry didn't need to be brought into this. Draco would've been scared enough to be caught like this by his housemates, but with Harry going along with him, it made him even worse. All the boy had been trying to do was help him. _Bloody hell_, he just wanted them to leave Harry _alone_.

"Simple. Orders are orders," Blaise answered simply. He glanced between his two victims, both in which were being held securely by Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy was still standing by the side, silently mourning over her decision to go this way. Draco glared; Harry did the same.

"Whose orders?" Draco asked. Though he had a feeling of who it might be.

"Your father, of course." Blaise smirked. "He's sent me a letter. Things have gotten out of hand with you and Potter. You're practically in love, aren't you?"

"No," Draco said angrily. "You don't even know what's going on!"

"Yes I do. And anyway. Down to business. He sent me a letter, told me he was going to send me a portkey in a package disguised as a gift from my parents," Blaise continued, his tone much like the ignorant one he usually held.

"Are y--"

"Ah, ah. I'm not finished. I was going to add that that was a rather _smart_ idea of your father's. It worked, I might add. I received it today and we are _all_ going there to see what he wants." Blaise kept the smirk, and then turned to Pansy. "Have it?"

With a slight nod, she stepped forward and fished something out of the pocket of her cloak. She came out with a long roll of parchment. She handed it to Blaise.

"Thank you," he said shortly.

For a few moments, he merely stood there, watching them carefully. Harry and Draco both stayed silent and motionless, their eyes the only things showing how angry they were. How scared Draco was for the both of them. How eager he was to kill both Blaise and his father, and how part of him wished they'd get this over with so that he could get _everything_ over with.

"So what the hell are we doing now?" Draco said through gritted teeth.

"Oh," Blaise started, seeming to snap out of some sort of stupor. "Well, the portkey is between this roll of parchment. We better get going. We can't keep your daddy waiting."

With a few orders to Crabbe and Goyle, he managed to get both Harry and Draco's hands side by side. Then, he turned the piece of parchment over to let what looked like a wand slide out from inside it. It fell into the two boys' hands, and when Blaise touched it himself, the ground jerked from under their feet. Draco closed his eyes, holding his breath as to not get sick.

But he knew he was already far beyond that.


	30. Tied to Truth

They were being pulled forward at an impossible speed, rushing through a series of blurry colors, and it seemed to last at least five minutes. Shoulders were hitting roughly against his own, causing him to tightly shut his eyes. But they finally landed, and Draco felt his legs buckle beneath him as he hit the ground. He could hear the others stumbling around beside him. He let out a long breath of air, trying to calm himself again; he felt himself beginning to shake.

"Get up," Blaise hissed. Draco felt himself being tugged up by one arm, and not at all gently. So he got slowly to his feet. His eyes opened.

"You too," Crabbe grunted to Harry. The boy's head had dropped onto his chest. He looked like he'd been too tired to endure the porktkey's ride, but he got slowly to his feet as well, his eyes flickering briefly onto Draco before returning to the floor.

Saying nothing, Draco allowed himself to be led along what looked like a dungeon corridor. The only sources of light were from a few candles up ahead, and the smell was dusky and damp, as if they were underground. "Where are we?" Draco mumbled.

"How am I supposed to know?" snapped Blaise, "Your father couldn't tell me where he'd be in the letter. Do you know what could've happened?"

"Yeah, you could've gotten expelled and my father would've been put away!" Draco snapped angrily. He felt like pulling forward to attack the boy, but he didn't think he'd be able to, and wasting his strength here would've been stupid.

"A bit angry, are you?" Blaise taunted from ahead of him. He turned around to flash Draco a smirk, and it only made Draco's scowl deepen.

After a minute or so, they began to reach the end of the corridor. The room ahead was lighter now, as if torches were lighting it. From the looks of it, it was a large, circular room. Nothing was seen inside. Draco swallowed heavily, glancing at Harry. The boy's head was still drooping tiredly against his chest.

Finally, though not a relief to Draco, they entered the circular room with Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise. Their eyes scanned the room before landing on one figure sitting near the opposite wall, apart from where they were standing. The person was wearing a dark robe of black, which appeared to be brand new. They also held their wand calmly in one hand, twisting it throughout their fingers as if not noticing them.

Blaise cleared his throat, and gradually, the figure lifted up their head. Draco's eyes only stayed on the man's face for a moment, and then he looked to the wall beside them. He couldn't look at his father. Not now. Not after everything that had happened.

"How nice to see you all," Lucius drawled. He stood up from the small chair he had been sitting in and began walking slowly over to them. Blaise held an evil grin, and Crabbe and Goyle stood still at the spot, expressionless. Draco was still avoiding any eye contact, and Harry had lifted his head to glare icily at Lucius. He looked murderous.

"You may tie together their legs and then release them," Lucius ordered quietly. His gaze went from Draco to Harry, then to Blaise, who already seemed to have conjured up some more rope. He handed some to both Crabbe and Goyle, where they proceeded to tie Draco and Harry's ankles together. Both boys stayed still, knowing they wouldn't be able to do anything to stop them.

"Good, you may stand aside, you three," the man said, a smirk appearing.

Obediently, Blaise and his two helpers went to stand by the wall. Blaise looked eager for some sort of punishment to be done upon Draco, or maybe a reward for himself, but even still, he watched with that grin still plastered on his face.

"I never thought the day would come where I would have you like this, Potter," Lucius began speaking as he paced in front of them both. "All these years and I've only been this close to you once, and you were smart enough to get away."

"And you," he snapped, his voice much more hostile. He turned to face Draco. "Making Potter your guard dog because you're afraid of me. I thought you'd be smart enough to at least go my way, so I could save myself this trouble. But no, you seek help from the good side." Lucius shook his head. "I don't know what I did wrong in raising you."

Draco stayed silent, his eyes now boring into his father.

"So, I don't think we should stay here and make this last all night. We might as well get right down to the point." Lucius went back to his chair, not wary of the idea that Harry and Draco might try escaping. When he reached the chair, he pulled it over and set it in front of them. His hands rested on the back. "To get some wonderful questions answered, you'll be sitting down right here. If you don't tell the truth, truth serum will be in order. Mr. Zabini has been kind enough to take some from your _Professor's_ office."

Harry's eyes widened then, and Draco glanced sideways to see that the Gryffindor was trying desperately to loosen the ties on his wrists. He looked panicked, and Draco knew that in no way was that was going to help. It was too late for help. They could only hope that his father wasn't going to do anything serious to either of them.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, you want to go first?" Lucius questioned, noticing his struggling. "Alright, come on then."

The man strode over to him and tugged at the back of his arms, pulling him roughly toward the chair in the middle of the room. He shoved Harry into it, muttering a short binding spell that wrapped around the Gryffindor's waist. Draco's eyes widened as well, and he attempted a step forward, but his feet wouldn't go anywhere. He nearly toppled over.

"This won't do..." Lucius muttered. He untied the cloth from around Harry's head so that it fell away from his mouth. There were red marks at the corner of his lips. Though that didn't seem to matter to Harry; he began to yell frantically, threatening Lucius.

"Untie me, you bastard! What do you think you're going to do! Get the truth out of us and then what! The Ministry'll capture you! Dumbledore will know we're gone!"

Draco bit his lip, his gaze moving toward the floor. He knew that that wasn't possible. Dumbledore didn't know everything, and no one at the castle knew they were missing. Chances were that Blaise did something to Harry's other dorm mates, and Pansy certainly wasn't on their side to go running to the Headmaster.

He heard his father laughing mercilessly. "Of course they will. And what I do to you both afterward is none of your worry right now. I'll just be making sure that Draco never disobeys me again; he'll be joining me no matter what he has told you."

"No, you will _not_ be touching Draco!" Harry interjected. He began moving about wildly on the chair, trying to tip himself over. Draco could feel tears beginning to build up. He needed to do something...

"I don't recall when it was your decision to decide how I discipline my own son!" Lucius said loudly. His hands grabbed onto the back of the chair then, and the hold managed to steady it. Harry stopped struggling, breathing heavily and looking furious.

"Good boy. Now, I have a few questions to ask you about what you've been telling my son. And if you could, what he's been telling _you_. If you do it now, it'll make it easier in the end."

"We haven't been talking about anything," Harry spat back.

"Very well," Lucius said, sounding unconvinced. "Mr. Zabini. The truth serum, if you please?"

Blaise made his way over to the man, pulling a small vile of clear liquid from his robe pocket. He handed it over, smiling. "Here you are, Mr. Malfoy."

"Thank you. You may go back to where you were," the man said in return. He made his way around the chair so that he was facing Harry. "Would you like to rethink your answer?" Lucius lifted the vile in front of the Gryffindor's face.

"No," Harry replied defiantly.

Lucius' eyes narrowed slightly, and in the next second, the cork that had been blocking the opening of the Veritaserum was off and being pressed against Harry's lips. "Drink it," he said coldly.

Harry shook his head, trying to face away from Lucius' hand. But it didn't work. After a few more seconds, Draco's father became frustrated enough that he used a hand to grab Harry's chin. He forced the boy to face him, and then tilted his head back. A few drops of the liquid dripped between Harry's lips, which the boy instantly coughed up.

Though that didn't seem to matter to Lucius, because he straightened himself up again, corking the bottle before slipping it into his own pocket. He watched Harry closely as Draco fearfully watched as well; Harry began getting a sleepy look. His father smirked.

"I believe that you managed to let one drop get through. That's enough."

Harry licked his lips, looking a bit dreamy as he sat there, not moving at all.

"Now, I will ask you again. Have you told my son anything that is worth telling me? Anything pertaining to what side he should join?"

There was a short pause before Harry answered. His tone stayed the same throughout all that he said; quiet and ongoing as if it were practiced. "I told him that everything is going to be alright and that you're going to be caught soon, and that I wouldn't let anything happen to him."

"But nothing on which side he should be on?"

"No."

Lucius seemed a bit disappointed. He had probably been looking forward to cursing Harry somehow, only for that reason. A minute went by before the next question was asked.

"Have you ever told him anything about me?"

"No."

"Really now?"

"Yes."

"And what is your relationship with Draco?"

"We're friends."

Lucius chuckled. "Friends." He looked back at Draco, who was keeping his eyes off of Harry and his father. He was trying so hard not to burst out and say something foolish; something that wouldn't get them both into worse trouble.

"You've gotten to be friends now?" Lucius asked, turning back to Harry.

"Yes."

"How did that come about?"

"He needed help and I gave it to him, and then we eventually got along and became friends."

"Was it that easy?"

"Someone needed to take care of him. Everyone else was abusing him."

Lucius fell silent then, looking angry to have heard that. Draco knew the term 'abusing' didn't sit well his father. He probably thought it was a simple act of discipline, and that it was what Draco needed in order to get himself together. With a cursory glance Blaise's way, he motioned with his hand to move Harry off of the chair. Blaise did just that, muttering the binding counterspell, and made sure he moved Harry as roughly as possible. Harry fell onto his side, twisting slightly.

Draco looked up and glared at Blaise, seeing that the boy was looking smug with himself again. He made his way back over to the wall, watching Draco maliciously. It wasn't until Draco saw his father crouching down over Harry when he stopped staring at the boy.

Lucius sent an amused grin Draco's way, before his hand planted itself on Harry's shoulder. "Mr. Zabini said that you're both becoming _more_ than friends, is that true, _Harry_?" Lucius questioned, his tone holding feigned kindness.

"Yes." Harry began twisting about again, once that hand began inching its way up Harry's neck.

"Don't _touch_ him!" Draco shouted angrily; his tone held repulsion. He tried taking a sudden step forward, but he forgot that his feet were tied and ended up tripping onto the floor. He managed to turn onto his side before falling onto his face, but he let out a small groan anyway. Hitting the hard floor had been painful.

"You're _worried_ about him, Draco?" Lucius queried, sounding a bit hostile again, "You shouldn't be."

"Just keep your bloody hands off of him. I don't care what you do to me, just quit touching him!"

Lucius chuckled again. His hand remained where it was; his fingers had even started to caress along Harry's neck. He was definitely trying to get a rise out of Draco, to see how attached he had gotten to the boy.

"Get your fucking hands off of him, you bastard!" Draco cried. He could feel those tears coming again, but he wouldn't dare let them loose. He couldn't get himself to move; only to scream. He wouldn't _let_ his father do this to Harry.

Eventually, his father did stop. He drew his hand away from Harry's neck and stared coldly at his son. Draco was breathing heavily, staring at him as if the only thing he wanted to do was kill someone. Kill him, to be specific. "You've gotten much too close to this boy, Draco. You know that it'll never work. He'll die at the hands of Voldemort soon, and you'll be following beside me the entire way."

"No, I won't," Draco said through gritted teeth.

"You want me to do it again, Draco?" Lucius asked, his tone deadly calm.

Draco closed his eyes tightly, swallowing back a sick lump in his throat. "No."

"And I suppose you wouldn't like to see me hurting Potter either?"

"No," Draco said darkly. His eyes opened again, just to make sure his father wasn't trying anything again. He could feel himself growing sick, as if he'd lose his last meal in the next second.

"Then you _will_ join me. After school... you will be led by Mr. Zabini and his friends here, and will be taken to me. I trusted you to go alone before, but you've given me my doubts. You'll make sure of that, won't you Mr. Zabini?" Lucius looked back at the three boys by the wall to see that Blaise nodded his agreement.

He turned back to Draco then. "And if you say no to me one more time, I'll do things to Potter. I'll do things to you. And to make sure that you don't go running back for cover once you return to Hogwarts, you'll stay here with me."

Draco kept on staring at his father, determined not to give in and say he was going to follow him. But he doubted this determination all of a sudden. He couldn't bear to see Harry go through the pain he had, and the mere thought of it was nauseating . He couldn't bear to have it done to himself either, and the thought of staying with his father while the others went back to school made him more afraid than ever before. He _had_ to give in. There was no other choice.

"So, have you reconsidered your answer?" Lucius questioned again. He stood up, looking down at Draco, who already felt hot tears trickling down his face.

"Yes, father. I'll join you."


	31. Back on His Word

After Lucius heard Draco confirm his loyalty to him, he grinned quite slyly. Without letting another moment pass, his father leaned down beside Draco. "You've said that once before, haven't you? How am I to know that you're telling the truth?"

"I promise..." Draco replied, his voice quiet and his gaze lingering toward the wall. He noticed that Harry was still experiencing the effects of the Veritaserum; his eyes were fogged over in that dreamy way. Draco swallowed again.

Then he felt his father lean over more, above him, with one of his hands placed on the ground in order to keep him hovering. His breath swept closely over his ear. "There's still the problem of Potter, however. What shall I do with him?"

Draco's throat seized up for a second or two, not knowing if his father was already going back on his word. He had said that he wouldn't do anything to either of them, and that meant _everything_.

"You'll let him go," Draco said softly. He turned his head to face his father, and then saw how dangerously close he was. Draco tried inching away, but he didn't move but a centimeter.

"Will I now?" Lucius questioned, his voice lowering to a whisper. "I changed my mind about leaving you both alone. One of you needs punishment, especially if you've been associating with eachother." Lucius shook his head lightly, as if disappointed that his son would result to such low behavior.

Draco felt his stomach clench as his father looked down at him, looking as serious as ever. Draco should've known that he was lying, or that he'd have something extra in for them. That sick feeling returned; he'd been relieved a moment ago, thinking that things had gone by amazingly easy. Easier than what he'd expected, that was. But now...

"What do you mean? You said you'd leave us alone. We made an agreement!" Draco looked at his father, his eyes burning. He struggled more to get away from him, but the man grabbed his legs to prevent him from going any further.

"I know... but aren't agreements between Death Eaters broken?" Lucius stared back at him, not looking at all sorry for what he was doing. He looked like he was bloody _enjoying_ himself. "It won't be as bad as you think, Draco..."

"YES IT WILL! GET OFF OF ME! I DON'T WANT YOU TO DO THIS!" Draco cried. He tried lifting his legs to kick his father back, but that proved impossible to do; a stronger hand was holding down his legs.

"Then I suppose it'll be _Harry_ who receives the punishment then?" Lucius inquired, his eyes shifting slowly over to Harry, who had his eyes closed.

"DON'T YOU DARE! HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! YOU'RE A LIAR!" Draco screamed. He was trying to make as much noise as possible. Maybe it'd get to his father, though he doubted it would. He began thrashing about; this was going far beyond what he wanted.

"Then you'll obey me!" Lucius roared. "If you make one move to resist, I'll make sure that Potter's experience will be much more painful!"

Immediately, Draco stopped thrashing about. He fell almost lifeless against the floor, his head tilting back onto the floor as he tried regulating his uneven breathing. His throat felt sore and the binds around his wrists and ankles were digging into his skin. He knew that the only solution to this was succumbing to his father... but he just...

God, he couldn't _stand_ the idea of Harry getting hurt the way he had.

As much as he'd rather strangle himself than let his father take advantage of him again, that wasn't quite possible at this point, and so Draco blinked back a few tears, looking heatedly up at his father. "Fine. Fuck me. I don't care."

His gaze wandered to the side, trying to make himself as calm as possible in a situation like this. Though calm was the furthest thing he'd be able to reach, and he didn't think he ever would. He was hoping that he could think of being somewhere else again... somewhere where he wouldn't concentrate so much on the pain...

He could see Blaise looking at him and his father with a slightly stricken expression. His eyes were wide. Draco knew that Blaise hadn't believed him when he said his father raped him, but now... he was sure that the boy believed it. The truth was right in front of his face, and he could even watch if he felt like it.

Draco closed his eyes, his head turning back around to face the ceiling. He could hear his father talking, but he was barely listening.

"_It's good that you're finally listening... just remember what I told you... resist and I hurt Potter... you're such a well-behaved boy..._"

And then he felt his father kneeling down over him. He felt his lips being forced onto his, his tongue deeming what he thought was his and only his, his teeth and tongue marking their way across his neck. He felt the hands that moved beneath his shirt, teasing and taunting and moving so dangerously slow. He felt the burning feeling in his chest; the helpless feeling that someone got when they were here, having this done to them, but couldn't do one thing about it.

He felt his father whispering small compliments, followed by much more sultry, sick words. He felt a pair of lips traveling along his chest. He felt his body arching up into the other, determined not to react to anything he was feeling. His eyes were closed the entire time; his teeth biting his lip hard enough to reach the point of tasting blood in his mouth.

His father's hands worked their way downward, slipping down his bottoms and the fabric separating himself from what he wanted the most. Draco felt a cold hand wrap around him, and he let out a faint, helpless gasp. A few more tears ran down the sides of his face.

_Harry... I'm sorry... please don't hate me for giving in again..._ he thought desperately.

That hand began working in forward and down movements, moving faster and harder as Draco's breathing quickened; he didn't think he could breathe anymore. When he felt himself ready to do exactly what was wanted of him... to release himself to his father, the hand stopped. He felt his father's slight panting ghosting across his face.

"You have naughty friends, Draco..." Lucius whispered, "Watching us."

Draco stayed silent, swallowing back the short cry that was trying hard to escape between his lips. He heard a small shuffling of fabric, and before he could prepare himself, he felt his father push into him, using as much force as possible. Draco couldn't help but cry out; he just about screamed. It hurt... it hurt so bad...

And it hurt even more as his father thrust in and out of him, faster and harder, just like his hand. He let out a pained cry each time; he was burning all over, crying and wishing that it would all just end. He'd rather have died than have this done to him. He'd rather have died before putting Harry in the presence of his father... or anything else this bad. He hadn't known that this was going to end up happening.

The pace quickened, and Draco felt his body lifting from the floor each time. He could hear the sound of his father, and his soft groans of pleasure. He suddenly felt like vomiting, but it just wouldn't come up. He could see black dots dancing in front of his eyes.

It ended quickly, yet felt like much too long. He came into his father's hand, which had been working him while continuing with each violent push. And then he felt his father erupt inside of him, and that's when he felt the edges of unconsciousness threaten him. He didn't feel his father leave him, though, and instead heard the man breathing heavily over him.

Moments later, struggling with his breathing and bleeding in places only he could guess, he turned his head to open his eyes wearily toward Harry. As he tried to blink back the blurriness and the blackness, he made out a figure sitting with their legs pulled to their chest, their head buried in their knees. They were rocking back and forth, short cries coming from within those arms. "Draco... oh god...god...god...I'm so sorry..."

Harry was awake, and he suddenly _knew_ that his father had known; he had Blaise keep the boy still and quiet enough, using whatever way possible. Whatever way that would keep Draco from noticing.

"I'm s-sorry..." Draco whispered, barely able to get those two words out.

It was the last thing Draco said before he felt himself give into the darkness.


	32. Wanting to Stop

When Draco woke up, he opened his eyes slowly. Purposefully, because he wasn't sure if he wanted to look at what could be greeting him. There could be Harry, sitting there looking as miserable as he had before he fell unconscious. There could be Blaise looking at him as if he thought Draco was the most revolting person he'd ever seen; his opinion of Lucius was sure not to change. After all, the man _was_ the superior one, at least in Blaise's eyes.

He didn't think he could stand the sight of his father either. Especially if he was sitting in that chair, looking as calm and composed as before, smirking over at him. He wouldn't be able to _take_ it; this was the third time his father had done this to him.

And that's when it all came flooding back to him, as if trying to catch him off guard. The pain, the humiliation... it hit him so hard that he had to close his eyes to try and force it back. His body was aching all over again; he felt sweaty, hot, and dirty and it was absolutely disgusting.

His stomach finally seemed to not be able to take it anymore. With a groan, he tried standing up. He felt that there was a wall behind him, and guessed that someone must've propped him up there. His bottoms were back on as well, and for that he was thankful. He managed to push his back up against the wall, using his legs to push him up into a standing position.

Eyes blinked around the room again, and he still seemed to be seeing everything blurry. "I think I'm going to throw up..." He said weakly. His head tilted downward, and then he heard someone speak up quickly.

"Crabbe, hurry, get him in the hallway!"

Draco felt a pair of strong arms dragging him quickly down the corridor. He was pushed forward rather roughly, but managed not to tip over. That's when he felt himself cough up whatever nourishment he managed to eat before coming here. Luckily, nothing got onto himself. He then fell onto his knees, coughing up the rest. He could hear people moving around in the room behind him.

Once he felt like he was finished, he leaned backward on his knees, breathing quietly and steadily. His eyes were closed again. The sick feeling was passing, but the pain was strong enough to keep him just as ill. "I'm done," Draco mumbled.

The hands were back to pull him away from the floor. He was pushed along the corridor quickly, trying not to stumble. A hand had him roughly by his upper arm. It wasn't long before he was back in the circular room, and he noticed that his vision had come back to him.

He spotted his father sitting where he had suspected, in that chair, although his back was facing him and there was a table in front of him. Draco guessed that it had been conjured up. Blaise and Goyle were sitting against one of the walls, furthest away from him, and Crabbe was soon bustling back over to join them. Blaise began talking to them in low voices.

Another swift scan around the room let Draco take in that Harry sitting close by where he was standing. He was still tied up, and the piece of cloth was back between his teeth. His back was propped up against the wall as Draco had been when he'd woken up. Harry was awake too, and his eyes were staring bleakly up at Draco; he looked exhausted, terrified, and strangely dismal. Draco felt his throat close up painfully again.

A quick side glance was given to his father, who he observed until he was sure that he was busy writing something down on a piece of long parchment, his head bent over the table. And when Draco was sure that his father wasn't looking this way quite yet, he got down on his knees, beginning to move as easily as he could toward Harry. He managed to get close enough to sit beside him; he leaned tiredly his back tiredly against the wall. Harry turned his head to stare at him, looking scared.

"Harry..." Draco started softly, his voice nearly inaudible. He couldn't have any of them hear him, though he was sure one of them _had_ to be aware. "I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to let him do that... he just... he threatened to do things to you..."

Draco swallowed heavily, and could feel himself breaking apart again. He looked to the floor, but noticed Harry's eyes beginning to tear up as he did so. He eventually grew panicked himself, and not just because he'd be in trouble for being caught beside Harry at this moment. It was because of his father, and if he had done anything to Harry while he was unaware...

"Did he do anything to you?" Draco asked quickly. His eyes locked onto Harry, his eyes pleading for an answer. A strange sort of fear began building up inside of him.

Harry's head moved downward, and he shook his head slowly. His knees were drawn up to his chest; he refused to look up at Draco. "Please, don't lie to me if he did," Draco said, his tone shaking.

"I didn't," someone suddenly said. Draco's head whipped to the side to see that his father was looking at them from over the chair. His face was once again quite solemn.

Draco's eyes narrowed. The remembrance of saying that he'd be joining his father didn't occur to him at the moment. He was only thinking of how, _if_ his father was lying, he was going to get back at him. He'd promised not to touch Harry, and Draco had given himself to his father, and if that wasn't enough, he didn't know what he could do.

"How am I supposed to know that you're not lying?" Draco asked, trying to feign a voice of ease.

"I'm your father," Lucius replied coolly, "You're supposed to trust me."

"Go to bloody hell!" Draco shouted loudly. It hadn't been intentional. He instantly averted his eyes elsewhere, fear building up inside of him again.

There was a perfect reason for that dread to swim up again. He heard that chair scrape aside, the sound of his father's heavy footsteps moving across the floor, and then he immediately felt a large hand striking him across the face. He let out a startled cry as a burning pain stung his cheek. "Don't you ever speak to me that way!" Lucius shouted angrily.

Harry had looked up from his arms then, only to see that as it happened. He began writhing about again, shouting into the cloth but not managing to get one word across. Draco shrunk against the wall as Harry attempted a fierce kick to Lucius' lower half.

Harry's legs were snatched up by both of his father's arms, and he was tugged roughly backwards. Draco heard Harry groan as his head hit the floor, and he fleetingly forgot about the pain in his cheek. "Let go of him! Stop it!" Draco cried.

Harry continued kicking frantically, trying to get Lucius' hold off of him. By then, Blaise and the others had looked up from their secret conversation to watch. They didn't try helping in any way whatsoever, not until they heard Lucius bark an order at them.

"Hurry up and get Potter away from me! Hold him still!"

Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise all made their way across the room to grab at Harry. Crabbe and Goyle got him by the arms while Blaise grabbed his legs away from Lucius. They held the boy hard enough so that he stopped struggling and instead was left breathing heavily in their sturdy grips.

"Let go of him, please! Don't do this!" Draco begged. He'd pushed himself up to stand again, and he tried running himself against his father, to perhaps try and knock him over. He was furious and he could hardly do anything about what was going on, and he hated it.

It was completely pointless to fight back while being tied up, but no other idea came to him. Draco could feel his father's arms wrapping around him, holding his back against his chest so that he wouldn't be able to move around as much. He felt his father's voice hissing into his ear. "Stop it, Draco. You're being foolish. You're only getting yourself into more trouble."

"Please... just make them let go of Harry... please..." Draco said weakly. He stopped struggling as he felt his strength leaving him. His entire body began hurting him again. He whimpered slightly.

"Untie the cloth again," Lucius told Blaise, sounding impatient. He still kept his hold on Draco.

In the next second, the cloth had been discarded from between Harry's teeth. Only Crabbe and Goyle were holding him now, but that seemed to be enough to keep him planted to the spot. Draco watched him, eyes fighting to stay open, wishing they'd let go of Harry entirely.

"I thought I told you not to touch Draco," Harry growled, sounding furious. "Get your sick hands off of him."

Lucius shook his head, smirking. "Potter, Potter... you have no idea what you're saying. Who you're _talking_ to, for that matter."

"Yes, I do! You're Lucius Malfoy and you enjoy raping your own flesh and blood! You should get killed for what you're doing. You're _disgusting_ and repulsive and I swear that you'll die if you let me go."

"Then I shouldn't let you go then, should I?" Lucius asked calmly. With a small, sadistic smile, he leaned down to an unaware Draco and began sucking at his ear.

"STOP IT!" Harry screamed. "He doesn't deserve this!"

Draco's eyes closed, a few tears beginning to slip down his cheeks. He couldn't speak; he couldn't move. He could feel a quiet whimpering sound coming up low from his throat.

Lucius' hands began edging their way from around Draco's waist to further travel toward the boy's body. He leaned down a bit, making sure his eyes were locked on Harry's earnest own. He didn't care one bit about what Harry wanted; he just wanted to see him suffer. Lucius _wanted_ to see the disgust displayed in Harry's expression.

Lips played across Draco's neck as his father's hands slid between the boy's thighs. They began tracing light patterns there, and then briefly across the fabric of Draco's pajama bottoms. Draco's breathing became labored, not caused by any sort of pleasure, but of fright. He was still hurting from before, so having his father attempt something else was akin to torture.

"Please, stop," Harry begged helplessly. His head dropped onto his chest, willing Draco's father to stop what he was doing. "I'll do anything..."

"Anything?" Lucius purred. Hands drew away from Draco then, and proceeded to move back to the tight hold around his waist. He straightened up, so his face was hovering a good distance away from Draco's neck. Draco let a shaky breath loose; his knees felt weak below him.

"Yes," Harry said shortly. He glanced back up to make sure Lucius had stopped what he was doing. When Harry confirmed that he had, he watched Draco silently, sadly.

"Don't, Harry..." Draco said softly. "Don't do anything he tells you... it's okay..."

"No, it's not!" Harry replied hotly. "I won't let him do anything else to you!"

"But he'll..."

"I don't care what he does! I promised I'd keep you safe and so far I haven't been able to do that!" Harry's eyes were pleading, hoping that Draco would let him do what was needed and that he wouldn't fight about it. But Draco wouldn't let Harry do this... not when his father was behaving this sickly...

"I didn't know you both were so close," Lucius said, amusement tied into his tone. "I suppose you were planning on marriage?"

They both stayed silent. So did Blaise, and Draco idly noticed how the Slytherin's eyes strayed everywhere _but_ on his father. He was uneasy; this wasn't what he had planned.

"You know that this all started _because _of you both being this close to eachother?" Lucius questioned curiously. A hand traced lightly by Draco's ear, pushing strands of blonde hair away from his eyes. Draco's eyes closed. "So determining what happens to either of you in _front_ of me isn't such a smart idea, don't you think?"

There was more silence, and Harry continued glaring intensely at Lucius. Waiting.

"Ah, but shall I be nice?" Lucius piped up, his voice suddenly friendly. Draco shifted uncomfortably in his father's hold. "I'll let you go, Potter, and you may inform your Headmaster and anyone else you wish of what you've seen here."

Harry opened his mouth quickly, ready to say something, but Lucius interrupted.

"However, Draco stays here with me."

"No!" Harry said quickly, eyes wide. "Draco's going to come back with me!"

"Ah, ah," Lucius taunted, "That means you'd like to stay here too? Perhaps allow me to repeat mine and Draco's performance on you?"

Suddenly, Draco's gaze snapped up onto Harry's. "No, Harry, just go! Please, please just go! I'll be fine... just go back to the school. Please!"

"I can't let you stay here!" Harry said anxiously; his eyes were beginning to fill up with tears. It was heartrending for Draco, but he knew there was no other choice for this. He had to stay with his father. In order to keep Harry safe, he _had_ to.

There was a possibility that his father was being foolish; that he didn't know how easy it'd be for Dumbledore and the Ministry to find him. Once Harry told them about what had happened, they were bound to dedicate every second of their day searching for them. They'd be found, and he'd be safe.

"Please, go..." Draco said quietly, his voice void of any hysterics. He was dead serious.

"Draco..."

"No. I'm staying."

"Very well, then," Lucius said jubilantly. Though his tone managed to sound absolutely dreadful even with that bit of happiness. "Mr. Zabini, you and your friends may escort Mr. Potter back to school. Thank you for being of assistance."

"Wait! Draco, please don't do this! I can't leave without you with me!" Harry started thrashing around again; Crabbe and Goyle had began to pull him effortlessly toward the corridor, toward where the portkey was waiting for them.

"Potter, whatever you say won't do him any good. It's decided." Lucius stared after him intently, a malicious glint in his eyes.

Suddenly, a terrible urge to say what he'd been wanting to ever since all of this had starting happening, bubbled up inside of Draco. Ever since himself and Harry had become close enough to worry about eachother such as this. Ever since he felt himself falling for Harry...

Pulling against his father's arms, he called after Harry, who was still crying and struggling against the two oafs as hard as he could. Draco nearly forgot that his father was the one holding him. "I love you, Harry!" His voice was choked; tears leaked from his eyes.

Then, just before Harry became a small dark figure at the end of the hallway, he swore he could hear Harry yell back a reply. He could see Blaise trying to keep the boy back.

"_I'll come back for you!_"

And that was it. A moment later, Harry was gone, and Draco was left huddled in his father's arms. There was more pain after that.


	33. Losing and Gaining

Harry barely felt it when Blaise snatched up his wrists, or when the portkey had been placed between all of their hands, and then when they began twisting through that blur of colors for the second time.

He was only thinking of Draco, and how the boy was stupid for allowing himself to stay with his father. He was going to get hurt, and that thought alone made Harry's heart beat until it was fit to burst. He couldn't let that happen. He _had_ to get help, and as soon as possible. And if that didn't work, he'd steal the portkey and go back himself; even if it was only a second after they returned to Hogwarts.

As soon as he felt his feet hit a solid surface, and when he heard the portkey fall to the ground, he shouted at Blaise and the others. "Untie me! Now!"

"Okay, okay... calm down, why don't you?" Blaise said. His voice was quiet, as if unsure on how to talk after seeing all that he had. He nodded at Crabbe and Goyle so they could start untying the Gryffindor's wrists and ankles.

They did just that, and they were shoved aside as Harry bolted out of the library as fast as he could. Blaise didn't bother to keep him back. He just stood there, trying to clear his head as he watched the boy run out.

Harry was sprinting toward the Headmaster's office. He didn't care how sore he felt by being tied up for so long, and for how long that was, he didn't even know. All he knew was that these were a few minutes too long for Draco to be with his father.

Just as he turned the corner to race down the hallway, he ran into someone. A frantic glance was sent toward the window at first; it looked like the morning sun was just rising. What were people doing in his way? He glanced to the person as he stumbled back, and saw that it was Professor Snape. The man was glaring down at him. "Mr. Potter, where are you off to this early?"

At this point, Harry didn't care who it was he was getting help from; he just needed _someone_. He could already see the two gargoyles that were guarding Dumbledore's office. "I need help! I mean... Draco needs help! His father has him and I don't know what's going to happen to him!" Harry was breathless, trying to get Snape to understand without needing to explain everything.

Snape's eyes narrowed further, but Harry noticed him hesitate a bit. After all, he _had_ known about Draco's situation, hadn't he? "What do you mean, Mr. Potter? None of the Death Eaters would've been able to get into this school."

"A portkey!" Harry said quickly. "In the library! Blaise took us there and we were transported somewhere... and Lucius Malfoy was there and he had us caught.."

"Slow down, Mr. Potter!" Snape said edgily.

"Please, Professor! We have to get there before anything happens! Please, you have to believe me!" Harry pleaded anxiously. He was moving on the heels of his feet, determining if he should just shove past Snape and proceed toward the Headmaster's office. Because if Snape didn't do something soon, Draco would be in even worse trouble.

"Can you _please_ get the Headmaster?" Harry asked.

Finally, Snape seemed to understand Harry's urgency, and that he was entirely serious about it. With a very serious expression crossing his features, Snape turned around. "Come with me, Potter. We'll inform the Headmaster." He began his way swiftly down the hall, and a minute later, they entered his office, not bothering to knock.

And as Harry stood there, thinking that he couldn't get any more impatient or jittery over this entire situation, Snape went over to the Headmaster to explain what was going on. The three of them were making their way to the library not too long after, and they didn't waste anymore time in fetching more professors.

Harry only hoped that the Slytherins hadn't taken the portkey with them as they went back to their common room. That was if they'd even left at all.

* * *

Draco's father had been kind enough to untie him. It was only a few minutes after Harry had disappeared with the rest of his housemates. Draco was able to walk toward the wall, using it to support himself. Each step taken was difficult; it was painful to move his legs, but he had to be glad that his father had let him go. 

"I'm glad that you've chosen to stay with me, Draco," Lucius said offhandedly. He made his way back over to the table, sitting down in the same chair as before. Draco saw him pull that piece of parchment toward him again. Draco stayed quiet.

His eyes ran over the room again, looking for something that might prove helpful. Maybe something to sit on, or something to eat or drink, or maybe even a weapon. The only thing he felt like doing was causing his father as much pain as possible, then getting away from here as fast as he could. But... there was nothing here but the table and the chair, and his father happened to be occupying both of them.

"Who are you writing to?" Draco asked softly. His eyes slipped back onto his father; he tried to look at ease again, as if having a conversation was expected.

"Fellow followers," Lucius replied. "I'm informing them of my whereabouts. Though it won't matter much. We'll be leaving soon."

Draco fought back the urge to scream again, and instead swallowed another heavy lump in his throat. He'd never be able to see Harry again. "Where are we going?" He asked, eyes now closed.

"You'll know when we arrive," Lucius responded. He glanced back at his son, and saw that he appeared to be in a very uncomfortable state. Either that, or he didn't really want to be here. A small frown appeared on Lucius' face. "You can't still be thinking of Potter."

"No," Draco replied weakly. But he was, and he knew his father could tell he was lying. His eyes opened slowly, blinking over at his father. The man was watching him closely.

At once, Draco realized something. His father's wand; the man had it with him. He'd used it to bind Harry to the chair, and he'd had it when they first arrived. He could use that to possibly get out of here... if he knew where it was. Or how to get it away from his father.

His gaze lingered over Lucius' robes, and he tried to search hard enough so that he'd be able to find the wand in one of his pockets. And he thought he saw it; it was just a small crease in his robes, in the faint shape of a wand. It was on his father's right side. Slowly, and as casually as possible, his gaze went back to lock onto his father's. It didn't seem as though he'd noticed Draco observing him.

"Why do you lie to me, Draco?" Lucius queried, eyes now narrowing. "I recall you calling after the boy. You love him, wasn't that it? Weren't those your last words?"

Draco tilted his head toward the ground. He'd forgotten and completely disregarded the fact of his father being able to hear him say that. But it hadn't been a worry then. He wanted Harry to know, because chances were that he'd never see the boy again.

"Yes," Draco muttered.

"And do you love me?" Lucius questioned, his frown slightly fading.

Draco opened his mouth to respond, to say 'yes, father, I do,' but he couldn't find himself to. He _didn't_ love his father. Not anymore, or it was pushed so far back in his mind that the emotion wasn't recognizable toward his father. His mouth closed, and he remained silent.

This seemed to anger his father, and he instantly regretted not saying anything. The consequences only left him with more pain.

His father had gotten up from the chair, walked his way over in what seemed like a very calm manner, and then stopped in front of Draco before bringing another hand up to hit him across the face. Draco clenched his teeth, trying to keep back a strangled cry.

"You have no love for your father, yet you're here. And you love the Potter boy instead. You realize you'll _never_ see him again?" His father scowled, then grabbed Draco's upper arm tightly. He began dragging him over to the table.

Draco's heart began beating fast again. He could only think of what his father was going to do to him now; what he'd do if he didn't think of something fast. In only a second, his front was being pushed against the table. He was laying there, the side of his face pressed against the surface of the table, and his hands had been snatched up behind him.

"Please... father... I didn't mean that. I do love you. I really do," Draco whispered.

He could feel the grip around his wrists tightening, and a hand was planted on his back to keep him down. Leaning down this way was causing him a lot of discomfort, and he hoped his father wasn't going to do anything to him again...

"You shouldn't have faltered in saying it before," Lucius stated sharply.

"I'm sorry..." Draco murmured, "I was confused..."

"Of what?"

When Draco wasn't able to think of an answer, a hand came down and struck the side of his face again. It stung him bad enough that he let out a small whimper. He shifted feebly against the table, trying to get up. His father wouldn't let him.

"I was just confused! I love you terribly, father! You know that!" Draco blinked back a few tears, wishing that wand was in his hand. He'd been foolish before. He didn't want to die more than he wanted this happening to him; he wanted his _father_ dead, and he wanted to live without the worry of knowing he was out causing chaos in the wizarding world. He also wanted to apologize to Harry...

"You don't act like it," Lucius said darkly from above him. He sounded as if he were in thought, as if he were deciding what to do with Draco next.

In a desperate attempt to have something done, Draco did the only thing he thought his father would approve of. It was one thing he thought would distract the man from everything else around him. And maybe it'd show him that what he did to him as punishment wasn't even considered punishment to Draco.Swallowing back his oncoming tears, Draco spoke up softly. "I'll never hate you..." Draco paused, closing his eyes, hardly believing he was going to do something so appalling, "Can y-you kiss me?"

"Kiss you?" Lucius repeated, a strange sort of eagerness in his tone.

Draco nodded just barely. "Yes... please."

After what felt like minutes, the grip around his wrists loosened and then left. He was pulled upward by his father, and turned around to face him. The man's face was only a few inches from his own, and Draco could feel himself holding his breath. He didn't want to do this at all... but if he could grab the wand while his father was distracted... he'd have a chance at escaping.

Suddenly, without anything else being said, Lucius' lips were on his own, and pressing against them just as fervently as the other times. A small sound escaped the back of Draco's throat, and he let his eyes flutter closed.

He didn't get a chance to try and snatch the wand quite yet; his father's hands had grabbed the sides of his waist, lifting him just a bit to push him onto the table. Draco's own hands grabbed at his father's waist as well, clutching the robes there. He tried keeping himself still as his father tried deepening the kiss.

Lucius used his tongue to part Draco's lips, and Draco couldn't do anything but yield into it. And as his father made a move to get closer to him, Draco lifted his legs, knowing that it'd hurt if he left them dangling off the edge of the table. Draco wrapped them around his father instead, crossing his ankles behind his father's back. That's when he began to feel like he couldn't breathe, and he _still_ couldn't find the wand.

He tugged lightly on his father's robes to make him stop, or at least give him a moment to suck in some air, and thankfully, his father did. He parted from the kiss just barely, letting Draco breathe for a few seconds before crashing his lips back onto his.

Draco started to feel his father moving his body forward against him, his actions clearly showing that kissing wasn't going to be the only thing done in the next few minutes. Draco began panicking, and began searching for the wand more quickly. His hands slid up and down the sides of his father's waist, trying to make it seem like he _wanted_ this. They moved down his father's front, then a bit lower, closer to where the pockets were.

The kiss became more desperate, with his father breaking away from the kiss every few seconds to allow him to breathe. Draco was becoming breathless, not being able to stay as quiet as he hoped; he could feel that sick feeling creeping into him, just like he thought it would. And then...

He heard something else. It wasn't his father, or the shuffling of parchment on the table, or even the small sounds coming from himself. It was footsteps. Footsteps sounding as though they were coming from down the hallway. Then he heard them stop, and his father had abruptly stopped with them. Draco looked to the side, and both of their attentions landed on the three figures standing near the entrance of the room.

Harry, Snape, and Dumbledore stood there.

Harry's mouth was slightly agape, his eyes wide and his chest heaving. The same for Snape, except his mouth was set in a scowl of fury and disgust. His wand was drawn out in front of him. Dumbledore merely stood there, looking as calm as he could be in a situation such as this one; his wand was also held between his thin fingers.

In the next instant, not bothering to explain himself if there were any questionable things being seen, Draco took his father's surprise as a moment to snatch his wand from his pocket. He'd felt it at the last second, and after it was in his hand, his legs quickly moved themselves off from around his father's waist and he hurriedly slid himself backward.

By the time his father glanced back at him, his wand was being pointed at him. Draco's hands were shaking, but he managed to keep it leveled on his father's face. Draco was still gasping softly, trying to gain back his ability to breathe. He didn't look back at the others; he was afraid that if he did, his father would snatch his wand back away from him.

"Lucius Malfoy, step away from your son and keep your hands where we can see them." Dumbledore had drawn his wand up to point it at Lucius as well, and with a look of incredulity and fury, Lucius obeyed. He lifted his arms over his head, backing slowly away from Draco. Eyes lingered carefully between each person in the room.

As unbelievable as this all seemed, and as quickly as it had all happened, Draco knew by the look on his father's face that it was over. He'd been caught. He'd been caught because he'd been too caught up kissing his son. Or maybe he had disregarded how eager Harry would be to get help once he returned to Hogwarts?

Now Draco knew, as Snape proceeded to bind Lucius up, charm him into an unconscious state, and then lead him down the corridor, that he wouldn't have to worry about getting hurt anymore.

And when he'd shakily made his way off of the table, and after he'd handed his father's wand over to the Headmaster, he was led the rest of the way down the corridor with Harry's arm wrapped around him, holding him close to keep him balanced. Draco couldn't believe that he had doubted the boy coming back in time; Harry had been telling the truth. He had meant to come back for him.


	34. The End

Draco was taken to the Hospital Wing as soon as they returned to Hogwarts. Dumbledore trusted Harry to take him there, as himself as Snape needed to take Lucius to the nearest person that'd be able to escort him to Azkaban. From there, Draco assumed a trial would take place to determine whether he should be given the Dementor's Kiss. Though he didn't see why they had to; his father had escaped from Azkaban, was in contact with students at this school, and had raped his own son. What he _deserved_ was a slow and painful death.

"Draco.. did he do anything else to you?" Harry asked softly. His arm was still wrapped around the boy's waist, leading the slow-moving Slytherin toward the infirmary.

Draco sighed lightly, looking down so that strands of hair were able to hide his guilty expression. He was sure that if he hadn't looked so depressed, or had said he loved Harry, he wouldn't have gotten hurt to begin with. But he had done those things, and to prevent those hits from becoming another rape attempt, he'd done something that was just as close...

"Just hit me a few times," Draco muttered.

Harry closed his eyes then, willing himself not to say that he should've been there, even though he knew he really should have. "I'm sorry, Draco." He paused for more than a moment. "But nothing else?" He asked worriedly. Draco knew Harry was thinking of the way he'd caught them kissing when he returned.

"Nothing else..." Draco stopped, wanting to explain himself, but not knowing how to. He felt like if he ended up telling Harry what he did, the boy would be too disgusted with him. There were sure to have been other ways to get his father's wand, but that was the only one he'd been able to think of.

Harry looked questioning, glancing at Draco with nervous eyes. He felt unsure of what to do or say next. Since all of this had happened, he wondered how they were even managing to speak to eachother. He had so many things to ask.

"... well, I asked him to kiss me so that I could get his wand. That's why it looked the way it did... but h-he didn't do anything to me." Draco bit his lip.

There was a moment of silence before Harry spoke up again.

"It's good that he didn't."

Draco nodded lightly, and that's when they reached the infirmary doors. Harry opened one of them, and they made their way through. Madam Pomfrey rushed over almost instantly, her eyes wide and her face looking pale. She seemed informed of the situation, which would explain her being close to the doors when they entered.

"Mr. Malfoy! In bed, now!"

He listened, though was reluctant to leave Harry. He felt better when he was with the boy, as if nothing else could happen to him. And the Gryffindor managed to make one simple touch feel like the most comforting he'd ever received. "Can Harry stay?" Draco asked the nurse quietly.

Her eyes went to Harry, seeming to notice him for the first time. "Yes, yes, you can stay, but Mr. Malfoy has to stay still." She disappeared into her office, gathering up what Draco was sure to be about six different vials of potions.

And as Draco settled himself on the bed, he noticed how uneasy the atmosphere seemed to be. It was quiet, and Harry didn't have his eyes on him; they were secured on the floor. The Gryffindor had made his way over to his bedside, however.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Draco whispered. He thought the boy was angry with him. Angry for the way he'd insisted to stay so that Harry wouldn't get hurt.

"What're you sorry for?" The boy questioned. He looked up, surprised. He hadn't expected to hear that from Draco; he hadn't done anything wrong. And they were safe now... things had worked out even when they knew the chances were low.

Draco could feel himself on the brink of crying again, but he held it back, frowning. "For bringing you into this. I didn't want you to get hurt and have to see my father. I don't know what I was thinking..."

"Listen, I wanted to help you, remember? I said so and I'm glad everything's over."

The Slytherin nodded again, not able to speak up and say something as a response. He didn't know what to say, really. All he wanted was for everything to be okay between himself and Harry again; he didn't like feeling this awkward around him.

But then again, his father had completely ruined most of the relationship he had gained with Harry, and now he felt like utter bloody hell laying in this hospital bed.

At least three minutes later, when Draco was wondering exactly when the nurse might be returning with the tray of potions, Harry spoke up. Draco barely heard him.

"Did you mean what you said to me?"

Draco's eyebrows furrowed, confused. "What do you mean?"

Harry appeared to take in a small breath, as if trying to gather up the courage to ask. His fingers gripped lightly onto the bed sheets, his eyes locked there as well. "When you said that you loved me."

"Oh," Draco said shortly, softly. He shifted a bit nervously on the bed. "Yes, I meant it."

There was more silence, and Draco thought Harry was going to leave. Maybe to go back to his common room and try and get some rest himself. But he didn't.

"I do too," he said quietly.

"You love yourself?" Draco asked quietly. It caused him to smile for the first time in what felt like days. He saw that a smile crept onto Harry's face as well.

"No," he said, his eyes darting up to meet Draco's. They showed slight amusement and nervousness. "You, and I'm sure you're the only one who could joke at a time like this."

Draco's smile remained, and it was true, he was glad that he'd given Harry that small tease. It made him feel better, and for a while, it kept his mind off of everything else. And nothing made him feel better than hearing Harry say he loved him back. "It's good that one of us can. I was growing depressed with your lack of talking."

"God, Draco, after all of this..." Harry shook his head, still showing a remainder of that smile. "You're amazing."

"I know," Draco replied contentedly. His head turned when he heard the door to the nurse's office open. Sure enough, Madam Pomfrey was balancing what looked like enough medicine to feed one class.

"Kiss me now," Draco suddenly said. His gaze moved back to Harry, and he saw the boy look up, that blush creeping onto his face. That ever so innocent blush.

"Now?" Harry whispered.

"Yes, before she gets here. I miss the feeling... and I doubt you'll like the taste of those potions once I choke them all down."

"Okay." Harry bit his lip, and when he proceeded to linger for a bit longer, Draco made the move himself. He sat up in the bed, leaning forward so that his lips pressed softly against Harry's. His hand lifted to rest against the boy's chest; his eyes fluttered closed.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed with a start. He didn't know how much closer she was, but he didn't much care either.

He was too busy thinking, relishing in the fact that he was kissing the boy that had saved him, just like he'd promised, even when Draco was doubtful of it. Harry was the boy he knew he'd fallen in love with, no matter how absurd it seemed. The moment was perfect.

_This_ is what he always wished the wizarding world to be like.


End file.
